2025 is proving to be a whirlwind. Besides the upheavals with the new administration, I will add personalized changes. Most are physical and likely less profound. However, if you stay the course, there are probably some interesting arty-medical tidbits for you.

To my mind I was born an artist. This is not bragging. I consider it a handicap of sorts.

The primary idea translates to an outer reality of me being considered: 1. Odd (“unique” or “brilliant” on occasion); 2. A rebel who does not adhere well enough to what most of society tells me I should be (pretty, quiet, motherly, buxom, a virgin); 3. Self-indulgent, i.e. not really working; 4. And most significant, freely nurturing and expressing a strong sense of aesthetics since birth.

The inner reality of being an artist doing art resembles being placed, naked and barefoot, in a well-defined and limited space. The space feels murky, somewhat dangerous, yet intriguing. One’s mandate is to investigate and discover. This requires intense focus, always and forever. And love.

The joy of making art is in the doing. This experience is likely true for all classical creatives whether as a writer dealing with words, a musician concerned with sound, a sculptor with a focus on form and texture or the two-dimensional artist sharing some of these things but generally limited to a flat plane. Other creatives, such as cook, scientist, engineer or simply a person trying live their life with money and work benefits (insurance, vacation, sick days, etc.), typically don’t require the extreme focus and orient more to productive activity.

Part of my creative journey began with language. I refused to speak English for the first five years of my life, yet seemed to understand much of what people were saying. Hard to interpret any of that from an adult standpoint, since the early years are blank bubbles, so I rely on my nuclear family’s reminiscences.

Apparently my next oldest sibling, Barbara, could interpret my gabble. She mostly translated “Mickey wants peaches.” This could be fact. Yet school was important in our family. My older sisters gloated about their school days. When, at age five, I was to start school, it was decided that I must speak the language everyone else uses. Miracle of miracles, I did.

Some of this not speaking or whatever could be associated with having mumps three times and a tonsillectomy when I was two years old. I was also shot up with penicillin on a regular basis. The doctor came to our home.

Note: physicians did not anesthetize children for surgery back then. Besides developing a persistent and active medical anxiety and an allergy to penicillin, I remember a lot of cherry Jell-O.

Always, always, I’ve delighted in perceived symmetry. With aging (I’m now pushing 79 amazing years) I’m getting a newfound appreciation for asymmetry and discovering I am not symmetrical at all. For example, and I’ll present them as A-E for variety:

A. My left ear hears different ranges than my right; B. The left eye progresses well with age-related macular degeneration, outperforming the right eye in its race to blindness; C. My right hand is often colder than my right which suggests my heart pumps blood more efficiently to one side than the other or pumps faster or something; D. The right side of my lower lip differs from the other side; it’s a bit lopsided; E. My left foot complains if crunched by that sock bulge in the toe area; the right foot is cool with things.

Last year I got cataract surgery in both eyes. What a personal disaster.

The surgery was successful in making me far-sighted rather than my lifelong status of perfect near-sighted vision. Upshot is that I need eyeglasses for pretty much everything since I can’t read recipes, Kindles, monitors, buttons on gadgets, TV screens, the art I’m working on, etc.

And just to mention a key result of cataracts for me-the-artist: My sense of color is turned upside down. How I’ve structured a personal color sense or energy has been part of being and development. Color perception is amazing and unique.

I studied color for a year at the Art Institute. At final exam, where we each ordered hundreds of color patches, the teacher said, “I have no idea what you’re doing, but it’s working.” Now me-the-artist is lacking confidence in color choices, its energy, its relationships. Knowledge of what the colors are doing is fogged in.

Another vision issue is that I no longer can see or use fine tuning in my artwork—lovely fine lines, sweet little dots or marks. It’s gone. Its absence is due to a combination of factors, yet age-related macular degeneration has to be a biggy and something about the fovea.

On the nose front I’ve developed seasonal and pet allergies. (Read: year-long but differing in intensity. No more cat companionship or visiting dog shelters if I want to breathe.) My nose drips a clear fluid if I bend my head the least bit down. Or sometimes it simply drips regardless of head position.

ALERT / BTW: I just discovered via Google, in checking if “snuffle” is a real word (it’s not) and wandering the internet highway with AI interference, that such clear drips from the nose could be “cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) leaks from the brain.” This leads to the obvious question, how worried should I be?!

In other news, I’ve been on oxygen supplementation 24/7 for 3 years and six months. It seems likely that wearing a nasal cannula blowing pure oxygen into both nostrils could contribute to a drippy nose. Could be like the fact that wearing hearing aids increases ear wax production.

Must mention too the acrobatics involved in having a 50’ oxygen tube following or leading my every activity. Such entertains my husband too. When I started on oxygen supplementation and dragging the oxygenator cord around, I asked the pulmonologist for advice, wanting a video lesson or something. His advice, “Don’t trip.” Excellent wisdom there.

Another lovely, enthusiastic doctor told me she had medicine to stop that drippy nose.

Great! I tried it and turns out I’m one of those that respond to this med with an increase in blood pressure. This was accidentally discovered at the dentist appointment when they refused to clean my teeth because I was hypertensive. Took two months and a doctor’s note from my PCP to get my teeth cleaned.

I now take a med for high blood pressure. Strangely enough (to me) it brought my passion level way down. I no longer have the excitement, the love, the passion for much of anything.

What with dealing with COPD, asthma, allergies, and obstructive sleep apnea, as well as osteoporosis, being almost deaf-as-a-post, and vision issues, activities face new limits. This web site will close in April 2025. Use the gmail address noted on the Home page to get in touch.

As astute readers know, the tradition of doing a Death Series—honoring people or animals significant to our culture—has been running for a few years now. In 2023 we witnessed Oregon artist Katherine Ace (b. 1951) leaving.
          One of Ace’s quotes I especially enjoyed is about what motivates her work. She said, “The intersection of contraries fascinates me: life and death; humor and tragedy; beauty and corruption; natural and constructed realities; experience and news. I am captivated by complex issues that we all face, and yet experience personally, intimately. I am interested in the role of dark feelings, thoughts and states of mind in the process of transformation. I am drawn to fire beneath reserve.”
         For more on bits of what moves specific artists to create see Verum Ultimum’s discussion from the artists (including me) about Abstract Catalyst #9: https://www.verumultimumartgallery.com/single-post/abstract-catalyst-9-artists-reveal-what-propels-the-innovation-machine-that-pulses-inside-them.
          In working on the Intersection of Contraries the concept of opposites, contraries, struck me as an unfinished statement.
            For sure the contrary elements are in the composition: black/white background to the north/south, east and west; forms are halved and given new shape (for example, a halved square can yield two triangles); forms are generally positioned along the inter-sectional axis (from corners to corners). Sometimes the association is by color: based on the primary pigments—red, yellow, blue—combinations are considered “complementary,” though opposites on a standard color wheel. So a person can find blue and orange, red and green, yellow and purple used as pairings. Aside from these strictures, whimsy enters—the pointing arrows, the two halves of a circle matching in their gray color, a circle and square facing each other.
            Yet to address the unfinished-ness of the statement (particularly as we’re experiencing a radical change in Earth’s climate and facing political elections) I used the border to speak.
The white backgrounds to the east/west are open. The border surrounding the primary composition represents all that brings things together, connection, awareness, love. I do believe we are at our best connected, not establishing further contraries. Perhaps it’s enough to step into accepting “We’re all in this together.”

It’s been four months since we last posted a Studio Practice: New Works. That’s because I haven’t been as dedicated to the studio practice as usual. Sure, we’ve been updating traditions (Death Series and exhibition news and preparation), yet there’s very little to report on the art-making. I did do two smaller paintings that have yet to be photographed and presented. And I have more ideas than I know what to do with.
          One of those idea inspirations started with discovering an old batch of photos we took on the Oregon coast of what was intended as an elaborate resort area lovingly termed “Bay Ocean.” Due to tidal flows, time, and politics it never came to fruition despite big enthusiasms and investment. However, it’s still a beautiful area. We have 13 photos. I thought of doing a series of seven from the photos; ordered seven 11 x 14 inch stretched canvases.
           Things interrupted, like big time sewer problems and other stuff. Quite distracting.
          Time passed. I settled on a beautiful photo composition of Bay Ocean, but decided a series of seven of the Bay Ocean area (now quite naturalized) wasn’t abstract enough and would bore me and hence viewers. If interested in its history see https://www.opb.org/news/article/oregon-bayocean-ghost-town-resort-tillamook-bay/.
           What settled in my mind was to interpret the energy involved in becoming engaged—not in the marital sense, in a more fundamental experience of connection. That would definitely be a more challenging series to express and floated around my idea of engaging with art.
           Eventually, as I was analyzing for specific steps for weeks, I came to figure:
First is to 1. Notice something; 2. Find it attractive; 3. Give it attention; 4. Followed by appreciation; 5. Feel the connection; and 6. Experience transformation (within oneself and with the object of engagement) since I believe all connecting enlarges one’s world and this is me talking.
           This morning, after talking with a person I connect with, I am reducing the whole idea to “Engagement is connection.” Don’t know how this will affect any studio work generated by this preoccupation but I’m willing to wait and see. Meanwhile I’m giving it more thought and realize I’ve also promised doing something about the 2023 Death Series honorees. Stay tuned.

The listing that follows represents some of the losses I noticed in 2023 that I believe made a significant public impact: the youngest person is O’Shea Sibley (28), the oldest Isabel Crook (107).
          What action follows after this blog listing is that I seek quotes from these notables and create a visual tribute of their thoughts. All work from this series will appear in the Studio Practice: New Works presented on the 15th of the month.
          Thanks for noticing, sharing, investigating, remembering, and maybe resonating with these losses.
 
Alphabetical by first name, followed by age at death (in parentheses), notable contribution; cause of death if known:
 
André Watts (77), classical pianist, musical prodigy; prostate cancer.
 
Barbara Rossi (82), painter, Chicago Imagist; former Catholic nun; studied at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago; no cause of death given.
 
Barrett Strong (81), Motown trailblazer and hitmaker; no cause of death given.
 
Barry Humphries (89), “Dame Edna Everage,” British comedian; complications from hip surgery.
 
Bernadine Strik (60), Oregon’s “Berry Goddess,” blueberry advocate and developer; ovarian cancer.
 
Big Pokey (45), birth name: Milton Powell; Houston rapper; heart attack.
 
Brice Marden (84), abstract painter; cancer.
 
Cormac McCarthy (89), novelist, considered “unique” (BBC); death by natural causes.
 
Darcelle (92), birth name: Walter Willard Cole; famous female impersonator, drag queen and advocate, Portland, Oregon; death by natural causes.
 
David Crosby (81), musician, co-founder of Crosby, Stills & Nash; long illness, Covid-19.
 
Edward Koren (87), writer, illustrator, New Yorker cartoonist; lung cancer.

Fernando Botero (91), Colombian artist famous for his round forms (NPR); pneumonia.
 
Francoise Gilot (101), artist notable for watercolor and ceramic works; early companion to Picasso; lung disease.
 
Gerard Avedissian (55), Lebanese author, composer, poet, director and painter; died after four-month battle with an unspecified disease (Lebanon News).
 
Gina Lollobrigida (95), Italian screen star; no cause of death given.
 
Gordon Lightfoot (84), Canadian singer and songwriter; natural causes.
 
Harry Belafonte (96), singer, actor, activist; congestive heart failure.
 
Henk Pender (85), influential Oregon artist, painter; brain cancer.
 
Ian Falconer (63), Children’s book author and illustrator; did the “Olivia” series; kidney failure.
 
Isabel Crook (107), Canadian-British anthropologist; pneumonia.
 
Jacqueline Gold (62), designer, businesswoman, considered the “queen for female-friendly sex stores (Forbes); breast cancer.
 
Jay Briscoe (39), American professional wrestler, Ring of Honor Legend; car crash.
 
Jeff Beck (79), guitar legend; bacterial meningitis.
 
Joop Sanders (101), Dutch American painter, founder of Abstract Expressionism; no cause of death given.
 
Katherine Ace (70), artist. Oregon Arts Watch said, “She was known, among other things, for her painterly evocations of scenes and characters from classic fairy tales and for her quiet yet determined advocacy for women in the art world.” Cause of death: breast cancer.
 
Kevin Falmouth (67), photographer, teacher. Revealed as the Valentine’s Day bandit of Portland, ME, doing so since 1979. No cause of death given, just “sudden.”
 
Kiska (ca. 47) “the world’s loneliest Orca,” died at Canada’s Marineland; bacterial infection.
 
Kwame Brathwaite (85), photographer. Made name in work reflecting ‘Black is Beautiful.” Also famous for his early photo of Emmett Till lying in his casket; no cause of death given.
 
Len Goodman (78), ballroom dance star and judge; prostate cancer.
 
Lisa Loring (64), original Wednesday character, Addams actress; stroke.
 
Mangosuthu Beuthelezi (95), South African politician and Zulu prince; no cause of death given.
 
Martin Amis (73), British novelist, “stylist extraordinaire” (The Guardian); esophageal cancer.
 
Milan Kundera (94), exiled Czech author, particularly famous for writing “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”; esophageal cancer.
 
O’Shae Sibley (28), dancer; stabbed (murder).
 
Paco Rabanne (88), Spanish-born fashion designer, “couturier of space age design “ (NYT); no cause of death given.
 
Phyllida Barlow (78), British sculptor. Her assemblages were said to “challenge space, perspective, and gravity” (Artnet News); no cause of death given.
 
Rachel Pollack (77), American science fiction writer, comic book writer and distinguished for her tarot; non-Hodgkin lymphoma.
 
Raymond Moriyama (93), Japanese Canadian architect; developed “humane public spaces” (NYT); no cause of death given.
 
Ron Feldman (84), NYC art dealer, supported “out-there conceptual art” (ARTnews). Cause of death: Alzheimer’s.
 
Ryuichi Samamoto (71), composer; according to The New Yorker, he was “arguably the best-known and most successful Japanese musician in the world”; complications from cancer.
 
Shecky Greene (97), birth name: Fred Sheldon Greenfield; comedian, started doing stand-up at a Milwaukee, WI, summer resort around 1970; longtime Las Vegas and TV entertainer; natural causes.
 
SunRay Kelley (71), birth name: Raymond E. Kelley; American builder known for his fanciful structural designs; blood clot from a recent operation.
 
Takoda (16), black bear at Oregon zoo; cardiac arrest during routing health check that included anesthesia. Arrived at the zoo in 2010 weighing only 3lbs; came from Montana as an orphaned cub. Black bears can live until their 30’s in the wild.
 
Tina Turner (83), singer, songwriter and actress; after “long illness”/unspecified.
 
Walt Curtis (82), considered an unofficial poet laureate of Portland, OR; poet, artist, writer; brief illness /unspecified.
 
Zandra Flemister (71), first Black female Secret Service agent; respiratory failure related to Alzheimer's disease.
 
Primary Sources: BBC News, New York Times, NPR, Hyperallergic, The Guardian, OPB, NBC, The Atlantic, Variety.
 

So much has been news bait about AI, that I was interested in touching bases with it. Could AI really replace what I was doing as an artist? I started a Google search and shared results with my techie husband, in case I had to download something somewhere or get technical.

I landed with https://starryai.com/, currently said (by some) to be the best at generating images from text. Will it generate images from my quote materials? I just visited and pretty much got nowhere with my abstract thought input. It sort of went like this at Starryai (Starry Eye, get it?) . . . .

At arrival to its web site I got an encouraging message saying, “Generate art simply by describing what you want to see and our Artificial Intelligence transforms your words into art.”

Sounds marvelous, right? A Prompt Builder was quick to arrive.

It asked me to Select AI and gave several options.

          (Several options: “. . . with a wide range of artistic styles to choose from.”)

I first chose ART. Later, on a second try I went with ILLUSTRATION with its options of 3D, detailed, flat.

Another prompt from the Prompt Builder: In the style of

I chose PAUL KLEE, because he’s a favorite.

And then a secondary style choice: I chose YOUR STYLES [20 choices, from 8K 3D to Storybook Illustration.] On the second try I chose POP ART.

At some point I had to name my Project. I typed in the words that I’m using in the studio from Simone de Beauvoir: “In the face of an obstacle which is impossible to overcome, stubbornness is stupid.”

Then I cut it to “de Beauvoir.” Still nothing happens. My two project images are gray blank boxes (yes, one can also choose a format for the project).

After my second try at responding to the Prompt Builder with something I imagined closer to possible (illustration/pop art), I left. While not the most patient with new technologies, I really don’t think AI generating images from text is capable of generating art of abstract thoughts, at least perhaps not yet.

My first color fantasy was when I heard about Joseph’s coat of many colors in bible study (Genesis 37:3). While the tragic aspects of the story escaped my young mind, I wanted a beautiful coat of many colors too. I have always delighted in color(s).
          Back in the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, students studied color for a full year. Our final exam was meant to sort out how we can distinguish what our eyes see. It amounted to arranging hundreds of color squares according to intensity, saturation, hue and tone. The instructor came over to my exam process and commented, “I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s working.” I passed the test.
          Years later I took a workshop on color for artists as a possible update and refresher. The workshop was sponsored by the Clackamas County Arts Alliance, held in Oregon City, and led by artist and educator Christine Hanlon. Part of me was assuming I knew everything, but I was unfamiliar with all the jazzy colors now available – luminescence, sparkle, pearlescent, neon, etc. – and recognize the potential for learning is a constant. Thankfully Christine Hanlon opened my eyes to a wider perspective about colors.
          Color is also examined in a scientific measure of its attributes. It’s a phenomenon of light and is scrutinized for its refractive qualities and psychological impact. Also the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill offers suggestions for creating web content that includes people dealing with specific blindness to color. See https://www.med.unc.edu/webguide/accessibility/color/.
            Every functioning eye or eyes can recognize color. Keeping to the human realm, home decorators and fashion designers can be quite exacting in their choices. I assume all working 2D artists and crafts people give earnest consideration to color in some way with their work. It could be used as “reality,” or fantasy; as a subtle element, a bland monochromatic or jarring, harmonious blending of hues and fantastically significant or rather neglected. I use color as a quite significant tool, expressing a personal statement of understanding. And even though I work abstraction, for me it’s a realistic use.
           Recently I had cataract surgery done on both eyes.  The National Eye Institute (.gov) explains “Most cataracts happen because of normal changes in your eyes as you get older. When you’re young, the lens in your eye is clear. At around age 40, the proteins in the lens of your eye start to break down and clump together. This clump makes a cloudy area on your lens – known as a cataract. Aug. 24, 2023.” When the lens clouds, color perception is altered. When the lens is again clear, color perception again changes.
          Also I noticed with my last new eyeglass prescription, the lenses have a slight green coloration due to an antireflective coating. (It is possible to remove this, so says Google, but I haven’t tried.) In the studio I use a clear magnified version of the regular eyeglasses. It allows me to see detail a bit easier. It also helps me think that I’m seeing truer color.
          My husband Mickey, photographer, goes to great effort to match color to the original artwork. The digital camera does not do it on its own.  So here at home coloration is fairly exact. But viewing on different monitors? Whatever a person views online, color will be affected by: 1.Their general perception of color; 2.Time of day and season; 3. Ambient light; 4.The monitor they’re using; 5.Their mood.; 6. Whether the person is rested or tired; 7. And all else that I fail to mention. The upshot is that I’m cautious about getting too picky with color choices.

Since many of you enjoyed seeing my process in the last blog, here are details for I’ve Seen – a 14 x 11 inch work on canvas. It reflects my experience and perception of seeing and living my life.

 
I’ve Seen started with a reading from poet and playwright Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950). Millay said, “I see things with my own eyes, just as if they were the first eyes that ever saw, and then I set about to tell, as best I can, just what I’ve seen.” For me this defines all individual expression, whether it takes an art form, a facial expression, a hand gesture or larger action. And while I don’t believe expressiveness is limited to humans (think of your dog or cat, the crow protecting its nest, a surprised mole emerging to your presence, etc.), yet it’s in the telling that generally sets humans apart.
          The artwork is loose, unstructured. This reflects my attitude that life allows room for everything. I also believe life is not linear: we do not travel a straight or wiggly path from birth to death. And it’s not long. After decades of living it still seems small. Short.
Generally speaking, I find life colorful, beautiful, glorious, complicated, difficult and instructive.  The composition I’ve Seen uses color and forms in expressing elements of:

● Pink / joy, love
● Red / danger, obstruction fear; dots to emphasize
● Yellow / harmony, balance
● Green / growth, learning
● Light gray / tedium, some duties
● Bluish gray / everyday difficulties
● Brown / distractions; dots to emphasize
● Black circles / strong challenges; dots to emphasize
● Blue / emotions, general; light blue suggests lighthearted
● Golden bronze circles / unexpected good luck (like there’s something acting on one’s behalf)
● White: all else.

If you want to just see what went into making Quintessential Earth, this is my process:
 
          NOTE: Quintessential Earth will be introduced with the Studio Practice on 10/15/2023. But if you insist, I’ll see if the photographer is available. Thank you.
 
If you want to do instinctive art by rote and don’t mind going in sightless, without a plan of any kind, you can follow along on my process below. You’ll need: a sense of adventure, a piece of blank paper, colors green, two blue, two browns (one reddish), two muted yellows, purple,  several grays, black, and silver, a pencil to sketch in and an eraser to sketch out, and a thought. Or any colors you choose.
 
● Start with a quote from somebody you admire. I chose Hannah Arendt who said “The earth is the very quintessence of the human condition.” My thoughts went to how we’re changing the planet by our presence and about a report on how astronauts’ bodies are changed by being in space for extended periods. See https://abcnews.go.com/Health/1-year-space-body-nasa-astronaut-frank-rubio/story?id=103406478 or many other reports online.
 
● Look at the blank piece of paper and wonder what to do with it.
 
● Locate a nice green pen. Make random marks. Think of the wondrous array of plants on our planet.
 
● Stop making marks before the whole page is filled. Think of what might need to be introduced next.
 
● Oooh! Yes, water. Find a skinny blue pen and make meandering lines all over.
 
● We have a water planet. Fill most of the edges with a different blue color margin. (Assume the skinny blue lines suggest pipes, drains, etc. Maybe creeks.)
 
● Remember to include desert and mountains: sketch in a yellow area for desert up top because it looks nice there, a jagged grayish lump for mountain ranges at the bottom.
 
● Enhance desert and mountains with a light brown for the desert outline and light gray for sooty snow on the mountain tops.
 
● We make a lot of buildings. Cut a stencil for a repeat silhouette. Place on paper at will. Maybe place in parallel for simplicity.
 
● Use a skinny brown pen to outline the building’s silhouettes because I’m not sure how this is going to fit in with the whole.
 
● Notice there are all kinds of green marks and skinny blue lines within the building outlines. That’s probably okay because buildings have been planted on top of so much.
 
● Enhance the buildings idea. Add brown skinny lines to differentiate between buildings.
 
● Do we need all those window additions? No. We can’t see out and that would’ve been tedious and would add repetition of pattern we don’t need.
 
● The skinny blue lines between the building silhouettes are not emphasized enough. Do something. Add more blue marks; suggest running water. Be careful to not go inside the buildings.
 
● But we do need doors on the buildings. Gotta get in and out, right?
 
● Add more lines and colors to the mountain range.
 
● Add conspicuous doorknobs in little black circles.
 
● What about other life forms!!!
 
● Create eggish-ovals and spread them around the composition. Not any in the desert or mountains though. The desert is too subtle and the mountains too complicated by now.
 
● The buildings are getting lost. Outline the tops with a broad, darker reddish-brown.
 
● Add brown splotches under the green marks to suggest soil. Be careful not to go inside the buildings.
 
● What about marine life?!
 
● Okay. Add some vague fish-like silver marks in the ocean.
 
● Decide it’s time to stop making marks.
 

A friend shared with me her responses to a Studio Practice: New Work post. I found the response a delight and enlightening. Viewer interpretations of my artwork add so much to its dimension. This is from a longtime friend Suzi Anderson and used with her permission. Suzi and I met years ago in Anya Klimova-Preston’s dance class.
I’m including the artworks for reader’s reference. Enjoy!

Hi Mickey,
 
Just for fun, I decided to view the images and captions without reading about the inspiration for the pieces....just to see what would come up. 🙂
 
 
Let My Soul Smile
I did smile! The shape feels fluid, yet intact---no chunks of my soul breaking off!  Loved the colors---red for the fire in me (trying to find that!), yellow/gold for heart and happiness, deep purple/indigo for feeling grounded and quiet. Not chakra color interpretations, I know. I wear a lot of gray ...connecting the parts of my soul?

 
Learning Lessons
Lower circle: I'm a mess; my life is chaotic. A depressing gray encompasses my life.
Upper circle: I am now surrounded by light. I have gotten rid of unnecessary things (colors). I have started to put order into my life. I am calmer (soft shapes, no jagged edges).

 
Alone Together
Notes are separate, but need to be with others to make music.  The green shoots are also individuals; each has its own place in the earth. However, they occur in groups, i.e. people in community with others. And the groups all share the same earth and sky.

 
No me, No You, No Opinions
Hmm...If the figures which are basically the same represent our common humanity and our interconnectivity, what do the four figures at the top represent?

 
Still Surrender
This appears to be a planet, although not earth, in front of bright sunlight. It looks like the planet is moving into a state of total darkness. Perhaps, when we are still, free of distractions and outside stimulation, we surrender to a deeper awareness? higher consciousness?

Made For Another World
? I didn't get any insightful thoughts...but I did think of strawberry ice cream!

 
No Comment
I had a vision of sitting with a box of colors and without instruction or intention, I intuitively chose colors and strokes. Free flow.

Nature Derailed
I felt a lot of emotion in this piece. Water---turbulent and splashing on the earth, giving life to earth, but also an almost angry warning to honor nature.
 
Okay, that was fun...for me!
Thanks for reading my ramblings!
Suzi

This morning—a beautiful clear morning with sunshine, cool enough temps so I could wear my comfortable old work sweater, quiet peace (except for bird song [okay, crows cawing but I like them too], occasional piercing dog barks from next door and the garbage truck on the street, especially as it reverses direction)—felt especially beautiful since I felt free to focus on studio work.

However, the doubts about continuing with art have been coloring the fabric of my soul. Our web site visitor statistics have dropped by about 30%, but then I never did figure out why 1000 “new visitors” a month came to visit www.artmsr.com so maybe that’s not even a valid question. The 30% drop in visitors also approximates our USD investment return.

Yet after 10 wildly dedicated years of taking any free opportunity and energy to do art and art stuff (checking exhibit calls, participating in exhibits and/or openings or just seeing shows, learning a less painful way of dealing with rejection, minimum shipping of art, reading art news from a dozen different sources, participating in least-pernicious web platforms [yes, I’m still reluctant about Zuckerberg’s and growing more doubtful about Musk’s], doing the business side of deposits/purchases for art supplies and call fees, etc., maintaining inventory, maintaining the web site content, writing this occasional blog) as I face upcoming cataract surgery and the possible revision of my color sense and vision, questions about the validity of my practice are again surfacing. I’m 77 and am actively developing macular degeneration, have obstructive sleep apnea, and am at stage four in COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). This suggests (especially the COPD) I don’t have a whole lot of energy. Yet I’m wildly pleased that my husband Mickey and I have escaped the COVID so far.

So I wanted to summarize all these factors before I lost the high of creation. Yes, I started a new art piece this morning honoring the poet Rita Dove’s “Demeter’s Prayer to Hades.”

I even, for the first time, mixed part of the palette to use in Dove’s tribute. Waiting for paint to dry, since I established a background color for the piece, I am here writing this blog. And I can freely say that the return from studio work has left me high and excited, like nothing else in life can do. Not all art pieces begin this way. Most often the beginnings are accompanied by stumbling uncertainty or downright distress. I believe this is part of any creative act whether it’s in the arts, the kitchen, the farm—wherever something new is coming into being.

So why do I make art? It is something special to make something from nothing. And that something special might even be considered beautiful. It’s something wonderful to honor and express one’s being. It’s something unique to communicate in a visual, abstract realm and know some very lovely people hear and see it. It’s something personal to honor and highlight people, issues and experiences that are important to me and shape my being. In doing art, the process of learning and discovery is infinite. This is why I still do art.