On “Evolution”

I have been journaling daily for almost 17 years. That’s a lot of life written down. It’s rare for me to go back and read what I’ve written; It’s really just a way of processing my life. On the occasion that I do open up those old journals, I usually feel one of two ways; Astounded that I’m somehow the same version of myself, still toiling away through the same conundrums of life, or like that distant version of myself somehow knew, that someday, the me of today would read those words and understand with deep gratitude the profound evolution that has taken place in my life. Usually, it’s a little bit of both.

I painted “Evolution” in March of 2022, a pivotal time in my life. My paintings are often as autobiographical as my journals, embodying the tone and energy of a certain time period or transition I was going through. As I prepared to write this piece and share the inspirations and experiences behind the artwork, I opened up my journals from February and March of that year.

On February 21, 2022, I write:

“I am getting more comfortable in my skin. With my voice. I am realizing I understand and even know quite a bit. I am beginning to feel less like a child. I am healing. I am a woman.”

I was living in San Jose, having moved there from LA, not long after getting sober. I had fully immersed myself in my recovery and in AA, making it my absolute #1 priority in life, and letting pretty much everything else fall away. And that was the way it had to be for me. It had worked. But in the winter of 2022, I found myself at a crossroads.

Life as I had once known it had changed completely, and in many ways, for the better. But deep inside, I knew that an essential part of my personal recovery required just that; recovering the sense of self I had somehow lost during my years of addiction. Realizing this, I wrestled with how I should continue in my recovery. I was no longer certain that the particular group I was in was right for me. The dogmatic approach of the group & point of view that discouraged self-trust had me questioning whether or not my being there was aligned. At the same time, I questioned whether I was just fighting a very necessary ego death, and needed to stay the course and double down on everything I was being taught. I was afraid to leave, but I also felt that in order to evolve and remain healthy, I could not stay.

I know this may sound dramatic. Why couldn’t I just try a new meeting group or two. I had already done the hard parts of totally upending my entire life and starting again somewhere new! It was a whirlwind and I had really given it my all. But something had changed in me, and even though I was afraid, I knew it was time to question what was happening and honor the precious, forgotten parts of myself that were beginning to resurface.

So I opened up and shared what was on my heart. I confided in the women I’d befriended within the group I was considering leaving. Some understood. Some judged me. Some cried and told me I was bipolar. I started widening my circle of support, connecting with different groups of women beyond those I’d met in my recovery circles. I talked to people who’d known me the longest, my sister, my mother, about how I was feeling and why. I started reading lots of books by female writers; diaries, poetry, essays. I recentered my art and began writing creatively again.

My journal entries in February and March reverberate with the shift that was taking place. On February 22, 2022, I write:

“I am totally independent and free to enjoy moments of deep connection and pleasure.”

And on February 28th:

“I am so peaceful and whole. I think I’ve really come back to myself in a lot of ways lately. I am not creating battles. I am finding my way and allowing it, rather than fighting my way forward.”

Little by little, I began to feel safe & strong being myself. I did leave that group, and eventually, AA as a whole. I took so much that I learned with me. My time there saved my life, but so did letting it go.

Evolution is a way of taking all of ourselves with us into the next phase of life. It allows us self-compassion in the place of self-judgement, letting us build on what we came with, rather than abandoning completely the many versions of self that brought us there. When we do this successfully, we become altogether lighter. A whole world opens up to us when we stop letting fear keep us small and stringent. Rather than living in a state of either/or, the ability to rest at the center of everything you know and navigate the nuance of it frees the soul to experience everything it’s meant to. You get to be all of it. Full spectrum. No limits. That’s the beauty of being human.

One of the pillars of my sobriety has been deeply understanding and loving the version of myself that is an addict. I feel parts of her every day, and I thank her for what she showed me about myself. I see and know her intimately. I do not deny or abandon her, and because of this, she no longer needs to take center stage in my life. She is just a part of me. A part of my evolution that I would not be here without.

On March 22nd, 2022, I took a poetry for alchemy class. It was with one of the groups of women that really helped me evolve though this time, Chelsie Diane’s “Poems & Power”. That class was like a portal. In my notes, I write:

“Pain is fuel. Propel yourself. Use it for yourself. Don’t give it back.

Voice it. Alchemize it. Turn it into love & beauty.”

The next day, I painted “Evolution”.

Bold and gestural, “Evolution” embodies the energy of the shift I was experiencing that winter and spring. There is a purposefulness to its darkness; a velocity to its form. I don’t really have any other paintings quite like it, and I love understanding that it came from a time of great unknowns, deep reflection and willingness to find clarity around who I was, where I was at, and where I wanted to go. It was born out of a moment of personal evolution that has continued to mold who I am becoming, even today.

“Evolution” is the latest painting to be added to “The Unreleased Series” and is available exclusively to my Collector’s List. If you’re interesting in adding this painting to your collection, or viewing more paintings in “The Unreleased Series”, just tap the button below.

As always, thank you, so much, for being here and supporting me by spending a little bit of your precious time witnessing me and my art.

Purpose & Imperfection.

The delicate swirl of color you see here is wasted paint; excess that fell from my squeegee and splashed onto the floor. Yet, (and I hate to admit this!) these rogue, rainbow splotches are often more beautiful and interesting than the actual painting!

What do you love about yourself? What do you fear? We all seem to have at least one fatal flaw that sneaks up and sabotages us once in a while. There are certain things about myself that I’ve been trying to change for years. Parts of my personality that I don’t necessarily hate…but that quickly go from fun to dysfunctional when left unsupervised. While I was painting the other day, the splash of paint you see in this picture landed on the floor and sent me down a little metaphoric rabbit hole about the double-edged sword the imperfect parts of our personalities present.

For years, I’ve wondered how to capture both of these “mistakes” the right way. How can I harness their true essence and leave behind the harmful parts? What can I do that would allow them to become the artwork itself?  How do I make them purposeful? Our flaws, the things we hate or fear about ourselves, aren’t much different than these seemingly useless blobs of paint. They are twisted little manifestations of ourselves, leaping out of line and causing chaos in an otherwise well-intentioned scenario. These parts of our personality can show us pieces of ourselves that are deeply wounded, yet exquisitely beautiful and a powerful part of our uniqueness.

I don’t really believe that I can “fix” my flaws, just like I can’t control gravity enough to stop the paint from falling to the floor, splashing my walls and staining the room with unintentional art. What I can do is transform them. I can use them. When we show compassion to ourselves and honestly examine our actions, rather than just feeling guilty, disappointed or living in fear, we open up a new way to connect to our highest potential and better yet, connect to each other.

I think I can safely assume that 2020 has pushed many of you to new levels of introspection, just like me. We are existing together in a time of deep transformation. I truly believe that the changes we experience inside ourselves we will see reflected in the world.  We create our reality. So, I’ll keep working on making these pretty little paint spills more and more purposeful. And I’ll keep figuring out how to stop fighting my flaws, and somehow let them help me, and hopefully others. I feel like I’m pretty close. 

Painting of the Week: "To Calm a Storm with a Single Breath"

     I struggled to choose a painting to highlight today. Many times, at least for me, it’s tough to find the words to say about something. More so, it’s tough to find the desire to say anything at all. I just didn't feel like "talking" about it. I believe strongly in using your words consciously, and that when you’re unsure of the message or the result you desire, silence is best. Sometimes it’s a good idea to just marinate for a while. Life can pull us in many directions and deliver a cacophony of experiences to sift through all at once, and adding to that noise usually heeds headaches rather than clarity.

Breath is a bridge to the peaceful inner-self that lives eternally within us.

     So today, I chose a painting about being quiet; “To Calm a Storm with a Single Breath".  It’s about those times of tumult and a reminder to return to the breath when the universe tosses us into a storm of uncertainty. The painting is small (16x20”) and pulls peaceful shades of blue against darker, foreboding hues. Texture reveals the tiniest bits of gold; flecks of hope piercing the veil of night.

     No matter what rages on outside of us, our breath allows us the ability to stay steady and true to ourselves through it all. Each inhale and exhale empower us. Breath is a bridge to the peaceful inner-self that lives eternally within us. That infinite light glows in silence like the ever-present eye of the storm, waiting to welcome us back to center.

     Connecting to the breath can happen in different ways. It can be as simple as sitting and counting a cycle of inhales and exhales. We can find it in a yoga practice, on a long run, or even in the midst of lovemaking. The truth, is that our breath is always there for us. You don’t need to work hard or struggle to find this constant in the chaos.  All you need to do is take a moment and notice what you were doing all along, through every up and down, without even trying. Just breathe.

Painting of the week: "Islands"

     I talk a lot about language in regard to my paintings and how the titles I choose are many times, as important as the visual expression of the painting itself. The work is usually threefold in meaning; first, as a representation of an abstract, connective concept that we as humans experience and strive to understand. Second, the paintings are autobiographical, using color, texture and words to encapsulate the energy felt around a memory or experience I am having. And lastly, they are often double entendres, being either spiritual or sensual in their meanings.  Always, they are explorations of what it is to be human and expand further into understanding our experiences as intellectual, spiritual and sensual beings.

The painting, "Islands"

is an entry in my diary about isolation, intimacy and escapism

     “Islands” is this Monday’s painting of the week. Its reds, golds and oranges are a rarity in my work, and it was a time of waking up in my life. I was at the start of a budding relationship, and such, beginning that luscious exploration of newness and intimacy. We were islands. Close to one another and representing escape & adventure. A fresh perspective that pulled us out of our every day.  A much needed change of pace. We were islands in our isolation; each a separate entity of uncharted territory. Dangerous and exciting. Visiting and then leaving each other behind.

     It was also a time of deeper isolation for me. I had been living in Malibu for 7 months, and what had begun as a respite from a difficult time had become very isolating for me. I was far from friends and loved ones. While the distance did allow me focus, it also showed me the importance of connectedness to my well being. Malibu may as well been an island in regard to the rest of Los Angeles. And I was certainly becoming more and more of one in regard to my friends.

     The painting “Islands” is an entry in my diary about isolation, intimacy and escapism. It is bright and happy and reminiscent of tropical culture and sunny summer days. At the same time, it is an anomaly of color in my work, similar only to “Close” which is its partner painting. It’s interesting how we can’t really experience intimacy without the contrast of isolation, isn’t it? How does this pair show up in your life? What have you learned about who you are from your feelings or isolation and your moments of intimate connection?

Painting of the Week: "Across the Room"

Across the Room

 “Across the Room” is about connection. It’s a painting about passion.

     Passion takes on many forms in our lives, and flows through us in various ways. It can manifest as a drive or sense of purpose for a cause that we take up or a career or creative path that we feel pulled toward. It can come through us as a general vivacity for life and ability to greet each new day or moment with a heightened awareness and presence. Or, passion can come to us in our love and our lust for one another. It can take hold of us and toss us into rapturous romances & transcendent affairs with another magnificent man or woman, intertwining us completely with another universe of being.

     Connection, on the other hand, acts as a catalyst for passion. It is that tiny jolt of electricity, that strange sense of hazy familiarity, or that seemingly out of nowhere feeling of knowing that something or someone is about to take on great meaning in your life. It is a mysterious happenstance, and often alters our path greatly if we have the awareness to feel it, and the audacity to honor it, explore it and see it though.

     With its deep crimson body, hints of green and glowing pink, purple & melon hues, “Across the Room” is meant to embody the rush of emotion and empowerment that passion permeates us with.  It’s that millisecond of eye-contact that cuts like a laser through a crowded space and tells you, “there.” When connection & passion play together, it can feel as though the universe has placed its hand on your shoulder and ushered you toward something or someone with such clear purpose that all you can do is glance up and say, “Well, okay…thanks!”

      Honoring the connections and passions in our lives is very interesting. It can be as simple as showing up to a job or a practice every day or it can be much more involved and complicated. In the instances of love and lust, it can feel dangerous or selfish. Regarding a career it can feel foolish or like the odds are stacked. But passion can transport us to a whole new version of who we are if we are conscious of it and come from a place of love, awareness and allowing.

     How do you honor your connections and your passions in your life? How have they shown up for you and shifted your life in ways you couldn’t have imagined? Do you remember that first moment when you felt that tingle of possibility? Will you feel it again today?

Painting of the Week: "Precipice"

"Precipice" 

Isn't it crazy how we can feel when life is shifting? 

Lately, I've been doing a lot of work to "cleanse" my energy, if you will, and become realigned with my purpose and higher self. Meditation, eating clean, better sleep, connecting with friends and exercise all play into this for me. It is pure magic how I can see my life shift right before my eyes when I return to these practices and re-center myself. 

Nearly three years ago, I painted "Precipice" with the feeling of another, similar shift in my life. I could feel that edge of change. It was inspiring and empowering. I knew where my focus was and I was tingling with the anticipation and the joy of manifesting that shift in my life. When I first shared "Precipice", I wrote:

"Life is always changing. Today I was reminded of a time not that long ago in which I felt great uncertainty coupled with amazing potential. It was as if I was looking ahead, at the edge of a great precipice, unsure of exactly what I saw, but deeply inspired by the grandeur of the view. Today, I realize that in many ways, each moment of our lives can be this way. By allowing ourselves a little inner space to step back, take a breath, and look out over the precipice of each moment, we can connect with that infinite potential that we all possess & be conscious creators of our lives."

So it seems we are always coming full-circle with our lessons in life, each time expanding them to encompass a greater depth of wisdom and connection with our amazing ability as humans. Do you have a similar shift happening in your life? I would love to hear about it below!

Here's to enjoying that journey and reveling in the joys of change and transformation. 

Have an amazing week!

"EASY."

"Easy."

 

The interpretation of the title of this painting once resulted in tears & yelling. And there's a reason for that...

     I am not a talker, but I am fascinated by words. Language is so powerful, not only  in its ability to convey precise meaning, but to allow us to reveal ourselves and our perspectives and experiences. At face value, words can be very abstract. Sure, they have concrete, agreed upon definitions, but we assign a lot of personal meaning to them based on our individual views of reality.  Our ability to be exacting in our selection of vocabulary empowers us to paint a picture for others that gives beautiful nuance to how we feel, what we think, what we want and why.

    The titles of my paintings are an extension of the abstract experience. They are an ode to my love of language and a detail that creates nuance to the relationship between the viewer and the artwork.  The colors and textures of the paint are open to visual interpretation and draw upon perceptions, experiences, memories and moods of the mind they are interacting with. But the words assigned to the painting act in the same way.  While visual communication may be the primary entryway into the painting, the language in the title remains an open door for exploring meaning as well.

     My goal most often is to draw the minds of my paintings’ viewers in toward the painting, and then, more deeply inward toward themselves. The meaning found in any of my paintings is personal to each, individual trio of eyes and mind that take it in. There is a give and take that happens, and in that exchange, a moment of self-reflection manifests. It is our nature as humans to search for meaning and seek out patterns. These are the building blocks of our reality, and when we begin to take notice of how our minds are using them, we can wield that creative energy in magnificent, life changing ways.     

     And just in case you were wondering, the person who got so upset about "Easy" being the title of this painting was the person who taught me how to paint in this style. He was affected by his interpretation that I was commenting that painting in this way and the experience attached to doing so, was "easy". That could not have been further from the meaning I had found in pairing that painting and that word together. What meaning do you find when you explore these colors & textures along with this word? What memories or ideas does it bring to mind? At first glance, it's just a bunch of paint and letters. What reality have you built of it?

Within. Without.

“Within. Without” is probably my favorite painting. It is named for the Hermetic principle of Correspondence, “As above, so below, as within, so without, as the universe, so the soul…” It is a reminder that the world we perceive is one that we create, for it is a projection and a reflection of our inner selves. It’s easy to get swept up in the chaos of the everyday and forget that we are empowered with the ability to transform and shape our realities. We wield this power best when we allow ourselves time each day to take a breath and move beyond the constant, reactive chatter of our thinking minds. Meditation doesn’t mean that the noise stops. It merely allows us a little bit of breathing room to step back and consciously reclaim and redirect our energy so that our world within can bring the world outside into alignment once again.

A Return to the Written Page

One of my goals this year is to reconnect with my love of words and incorporate writing into my studio practice. Please join me here for a peek inside my mind and all its musings on art, life, love & spirituality, and my explorative attempt to make sense of that roster of chaotic characters.