Balance is an unruly dog forever digging beneath the fence and running away.
“Balance, get back here. Bad dog, bad, BAD DOG! Go home, Balance, Go home!” (Out of breath, with hands on her hips, she stamps her foot indignantly.) End scene. 
The work continues.
Life continues.
The work cannot move forward without me.
Life doesn’t hesitate to leave me behind.
Some days I would rather paint than attend to life.
Wrestling beauty from chaos, my painting process,
is very much like living life.
Very much, but not quite
When I am too long in the paint,
the living becomes thin.
Not the good kind of, “oh, I lost three pounds!” thin,
but the thinness of shallowness.
The process of painting 
is the solution of,
the resolution of,
the re-solution of
one problem after another.
The process of art
is the scaling of obstacles
created
by the prior solution.
Problem-solving is addictive.
It is the “solving” that keeps the artist going.
Each painting begs the next.
Before the paint is dry, 
the next has begun.
If not on canvas then in the heart and mind.
There is never “left-over” paint.
Never. 
In lies the dilemma: never.
The artist must fight to create a pause between works.
To live in the work is easier than living in the world.
A concerted effort is required to stand by and walk out one’s priorities.
Life informs creativity. When this is not true, you can see it in the work. The work reveals technique rather than the heart.
Years and life develop character and art.
The line of separation
between art and life
is a fine line indeed.
Creativity and life are inconvenient. 
It is significantly easier to deal
with pigment and substrate
than to engage
emotions and humanity. Honestly, it is easier to paint than deal with myself.
Artists forget that art flows from the living.
The cart is in front of the horse.
The horse is confused
and we wonder,
“Why we aren’t getting anywhere?”
Art for art’s sake. 
That old trope?
Yes.
And
no.
Art is not either/or.
Art is both/and. 
We (and by we I mean I.)
We
push and push
until there is nothing left to draw from.
There is only technique.
Thinness. 
Shallowness.
The work! The work!
It becomes idol
Idols are attractive because of their ease.
No thinking.
No questions.
Dogma.
The work! The work! A calling.
When does one’s calling become one’s idol?
Through social media, I recently reconnected with an elderly artist. Almost seventy years of stellar work. In his late 80s, he continues to create achingly poignant work.
Alone.
Divorced several times (still looking for that “sugar-momma”.)
No children.
“Children are a distraction,” he told me. And yes, all six of my children were and are glorious distractions. They are also inspiration.
Before I had children I “did not have time to paint.” For me, children brought focus. Clarity. And, yes, distraction.
Elderly artist lived a life dedicated to the work. His focus was always first and foremost his art. He was bitter when I met him a dozen years ago and he remains bitter today.
Rattled- I turned to the powers of Facebook- I looked up some of elderly artist’s peers.
I found another artist friend also dedicated to his craft but who just celebrated his 90th birthday and sixty-ninth wedding anniversary with wife, children, grands, and greats. From his LIFE flowed great art and generosity.
Both men painted and taught. One joyous. One bitter. One alone. One surrounded by family. Both made beautiful and significant work. They began in relatively the same place and they have ended up artist peers.
It is their journeys that diverged.
Sobering. Sobering is a good word because there is an addictive euphoria experienced when the artist is in “the zone.”
You can’t drink from a dry well.
What fills the well?
Values? Priorities?
When how we spend our time does not line up with our stated/believed values and priorities, it is time to ask if those truly ARE our values.
Talk.
Walk.
Saturday I stopped in the middle of “the work” and a tight deadline for a museum festival, coconut ice cream, and artist lecture at the Amon Carter with Jubilee.
I did not want to stop. Jubilee did not want to go. Niggling at the back of my consciousness were two elderly artists. Life called. The work called. For a few hours I chose to allow life to inform the work. And we had fun.
The work is not my life.
The work is an important part of who I am but it is not who I am.
The workflows from living.
Work from work produces technique. Work as an overflow of life produces heart. When I paint I put my heart into the work. I am giving the best of me in that moment. The best of me is less when I am consumed with the work.
(Make no bones about it, being consumed by the work is AWESOME!)
Some weeks play out better than others.
This past weekend I chose wisely.
It takes more discipline than I am usually able to muster to keep first things first. Family. Books. Journaling. Nature.
If these are not in place the art suffers.
My soul suffers
– and yet –
I continually neglect family, friends, reading, horses, all the things that make me who I am.
Thank goodness I am not a weaver or it would be quite the tangled web. I am discovering, gradually, that during those seasons when I am most vigilant to protect my values, those seasons when I diligently stand by my priorities, that I am at peace and the art flows.
Today I know my priorities.
Next week I may forget.
If
I forget,
WHEN
I forget,
will remind me?
Go now,
live and love.
There are no guarantees
that the work,
no matter the work,
is anything but an empty idol.
Never lose perspective…
and when you do lose perspective-
course correct.
Don’t waste time beating yourself up.
There is neither time nor energy for that.
When you recognize the drift, straighten up.
ASAP.
Create a life
from which flows
abundant beauty.
PS I was reading e.e. cummings and how he diddled with fonts and word placement.I have always loved to diddle with the words and after reading about cummings I am giving myself permission to diddle with the words.I do hope you were more entertained than annoyed. Peace out, Gwen
PPS or PSS
I had my hair done today. Laura Valles at Salon District in Fort Worth. Monday they open in a new location at 207 South Main FW. A talented array of creatives. We have worked with Laura for going on 11 years. I had color in my hair back in the day. I HAVE COLOR AGAIN! And it is SWEATER weather today.
PPPS. (or whatever) The images are work in progress shots of a painting I am creating as a storyteller for the Human Rights Initiative 2018 fundraiser. It is not finished yet. The reveal will happen at the Rock Your HeART Out October 27th, 2018.
If you are in, near, or can get to Dallas. It will be worth your time and money to attend. Here is a documentary about one of last year’s clients. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNlpfm_2VYs&featur…
And a final note, PPPP?S? I am planning on learning how to crop my images before the next email, but let us NOT hold our collective breaths. PEACE Y’ALL!
I have a new HP computer. A RED laptop with a large screen. (Color was the same prices as regular silver! ) IT IS BEAUTIFUL! Things are in different places than I am accustomed to seeing them. I did not realize how well trained I am to a particular screen size. My neck swivels with this screen!
Back to my first world tale of woe.
Saturday, January 27th from 6 to 8 Gallery 414 Artist Reception for Centering Abstraction. A four-person exhibition curated by Barbara Koerble.
Silver and Horsemint, one of my paintings that is in the show. I hope to see you there.
