Ancient Artist: Developing an art career after 50

Summer of Big Dreams

Summer is for dreamers.  Sitting in a hammock, or by the edge of a stream, your toes floating in the cool water, tilting your head back to watch the clouds float and change and open up the possibilities of the world...where does your mind wander?

Are you dreaming big dreams? 

Your creative life begins in dreams.  In the endless "what if?" questions that hover just beyond your reach.  What if I used that Opera Pink instead of the Permanent Rose?  What If I changed my brushwork from meticulous to broad, thick strokes?  What if I tried painting from life?  Changed my style? 

What if I approached that gallery, or submitted to that national show? 

Can you imagine your dreams like an ever expanding spiral, gently turning from the small, quiet, safe ideas into the grand, multi-colored Big Dreams? 

According to Martin S Lindauer, in Aging, Creativity, and Art, one of the benefits of Mature Age is the tendency to think more holistically, to view all experience as part of a greater whole.  Small dreams are just the lead-in for bigger dreams, bread crumbs pointing toward our unique destinies.  Of course, it will always be up to the individual to discover what that destiny might be, and to work through the challenges that come with increased risk-taking.  But if we will commit ourselves to nurturing our dreams, if we honor the internal drive that keeps us at the easel, or potter's wheel, or drawing pad, then we will manifest the lives that we dream about, recognizing...suddenly...that we've been living them all along and simply did not know it.

And if you think you're too old to dream...I would like to share a brief story about Isabel that I found in another wonderful book called Aging Artfully, 12 Profiles: Visual & Performing Women Artists Aged 85 - 105, by Amy Gorman.  Isabel was born in 1916 and has been an artist her entire life. 

            "Isabel pauses.  We share some ripe figs and cream cheese.  'Art is what interests me.'  She continues, thinking of food and art.  ' I'm the one who organizes picnics with my fine, talented friends.  Two years ago I organized one a la Manet's 'Dejeuner Sur L'Herbe,' in the Redwoods.  We made a tableau as in the painting.  Over lunch we wrote stream of consciousness poetry.  My idea was that the women wear clothes and the men not.  The men decided we were just too close to the public road - but they did take their shirts off'  (p 144)."

Life is what we make of it...the stuff dreams are made of.

                      "Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."
                                                                                                           - T.S. Eliot

And the Question Is...

I spent the morning giving a phone interview to an author writing a book about people who change careers at mid-life. And I spent the last two days worrying about what I could say to her.

She wanted to know about my life as an artist. 

She wanted to know what the difficulties were.

What would I say to those who had been "down-sized" and were facing age discrimination, or fear, or lack of finances, who wanted to follow their life dream, or just find out what their dream was, or...

I asked myself,  when had she talked to me before?  Because her questions sounded just like myself in a past life.

I ended up telling her this:

Once I gave up my preconceived expectations, the world of opportunity opened up for me. 

Not necessarily profound.

I hope the book reads better.

As an aside, vacations are wonderful for recharging your enthusiasm and opening yourself to new experiences...like hiking in the rain.  Unfortunately, they have at least a 10 day hangover during which nothing much gets done, like checking stats on your websites, or thinking about posting to your blog, or doing anything else that's productive....sigh...my 10 days are almost up.  Thanks for being patient.  I'll be profound next week. 

Or...maybe not. 

How to Read an Art Book

    Clint Watson recently asked his blog readers to send him the titles of their favorite art books.  My first thought was "I have so many - how can I choose just one?"  But then I thought it might be more useful if I didn't send Clint my list, and just blogged about the best ways to read (or use) an art book.

    So here are my tried-and-true methods. 
  
     Art book as a door stop. This is useful for those books you don't need today, and maybe not tomorrow, either, but you aren't ready to sell them on eBay or donate them to the Library.  Depending upon the amount of ventilation (stiff breeze) through the windows, you can easily prevent the studio door from slamming shut with one or two average art books.  More than that and you risk stubbing your toe.

    Art book as a decorative item.  I like to lay my art books flat and stack them on the book shelves in my dining room.  They look very artistic that way, and I intermingle colored dishes and artsy-looking pots.  If you stand there with your head tilted to one side you can read the interesting titles.  You can't see much of the pictures on the covers, though.  However, your dinner guests are usually very impressed.

      Art book as a future reference.  You never know when an art book might actually prove valuable to you.  Take Carlson's Guide to Landscape Painting by John F Carlson.  Copyright is 1929.  The first time I tried to read this book I got as far as  "The art of painting, properly speaking, cannot be taught, and therefore cannot be learned."  That, along with his true-to-the-times references to painters as "men" was enough for me to consign this book to the "door stop" category.  But I re-discovered Carlson after stubbing my toe on his book.  For the landscape artist, it contains a wealth of information.

     Art book as feng shui symbol.  Oooh, I like this one.  If you want to be famous for your art, place lots of art books in your "fame" section.  Also, place RED books in your south area.  This also helps.  And then, if you have plenty of time on your hands, you can determine which books relate best to your various other sections: the earth area could house your landscape books, your helpful people area could hold your figure drawing books, and on and on.  Endless possibilities. 

       Art book as an alternative to therapy.  There are tons of books on the market offering to help you find yourself creatively, avoid artistic depression, re-invent your artistic life, fight your artistic wars, become inspired by dead artistic people, but far and away, the absolute best book that I've read on this subject is "Creative Authenticity: 16 Principles to Clarify and Deepen Your Artistic Vision", by Ian Roberts.  Absolutely the best!

So what do you use your art books for?
      

My Conversations with Slump

I have not been writing much this week.  In fact, I have been torturing myself with thoughts that I must be blocked, or perhaps the "slump" subject that has been moving around from blog to blog has settled down in mine and set up housekeeping for the duration. 

"Why are you here?" I've been asking Slump. "Aren't you really depression in disguise?"

I mean, depression is a great excuse.  I could whine (or whatever.)  I could open that new bottle of wine and drink it by myself, waving my glass to the beat of the jazz CD I always listen to when I'm in that mood.  I could stare at some of my recent paintings and wonder aloud why no one is interested in buying them when they really are damn good.  I could remember that I've been reading Eckhart Tolle, and when he talks about shedding the egoic nature and returning to the nothingness my head starts to ache, and then my neck. 

I guess that's what happens when you get a little information.

And I've been thinking a lot about how a little information can actually send you off on the wrong track.  Or around the bend.  Off the deep end.  Into the...you get my drift.  Questions like the reason we're here are too deep for this blog.  What I do know, or think I know, is that my internal experience, when I am painting, comes the closest to what I imagine Eckhart Tolle might be talking about when he speaks of the awareness of Being, outside of the ego.  I have no idea whether what I experience even comes close to what the spiritual teachers believe.  Might I be reckless enough to ask, "Should it matter?" 

Artists are very familiar with the experience of being "in the zone." Of finding yourself in a place where there is a connection between canvas, brush, hand, mind, heart, and perhaps something else.  Ego is not present in those moments.  Ego only comes into the room when the moment is past, when the painting is drying, or the words written in last week's post have been passed around from blog to blog.  When the action has been taken and cannot be recalled, and Ego is ready to inject emotion, insecurity, defensiveness, and self-inflicted pain along with his best pals Slump and Depression.

Should it matter that I struggle with ego, when -- in the moment that I complete a painting -- there is great inner peace? 

I'm going to need a lot more information. 

"So why are you still here?"  I ask, watching as Slump hands the bowl of chips over to Depression, who passes because he hasn't been able to eat for days.

I see their mouths moving.  Slump can't seem to get comfortable.  Ego has launched into what could be a tirade as his face is turning red. But I can't hear them. 

I don't know.  Maybe I've made a little progress toward Enlightenment. 

Maybe I'm going deaf.

Like I said, a little information can really be a dangerous thing. 

The Haunted Studio

Halloween is rapidly approaching, so maybe I've been "tricked"  ...  or maybe it's a ghost...but what a fright!

  Who could have made such a mess?

We assemble the suspects...here are their "Mutt" shots...

  First on the scene...was it you?

Anyone this relaxed under interrogation couldn't possibly be guilty

How about you?  Did you make that mess?

Heck no...not me...(vigorous head shake of denial)...maybe it was the cat.

What Cat?

That cat...

That cat doesn't even live here....

Lets look for witnesses...

Sorry...didn't see a thing.

 

Clearly it is a great mystery...like the Great Pumkpin...

I've been tagged...

I received two interesting emails over the past two days.  The first was from Vivien Blackburn, announcing that she had "tagged" me.  The other was from Joanne B Kaar. 

Joanne B Kaar is a fantastic fiber/paper artist who lives in Caithness, Scotland.  I found her work through Kirsty Hall's blog.  Somehow, Joanne saw a comment I had left on Kirsty's blog and followed the link back to my site, where she discovered we had both attended the Oregon State University. She contacted me about what a small world it actually was, and I checked out her blog, where I found a wonderful story about a message in a bottle. Which inspired the direction of this post.

The Internet, and blogs, are a modern equivalent of the "message in a bottle."  We send out our thoughts, and like the bottle in Joanne's story, it's found by people from distant lands, and lasting friendships are formed.     I have found some wonderful friends through blogging.  Although they may not realize it, their words enrich my life, and let me know that there are others with the same dreams and struggles.  So, according to the rules, I must now reveal those seven facts no one knows.

           1.  I have a strange phobia about phones.  If you call me, I'll talk all day, but for some reason I hate to pick up the phone to call someone.  Even to order pizza.

           2.  In high school I thought I would grow up to be a marine biologist and swim with Flipper.

            3.  I still have a small blue ceramic pig that I made in art class at age 9.   It's the only relic that remains from my childhood, it's 50 years old now, and I think it is a talisman.

4.  I can devour an entire pan of rice crispy squares in a single sitting .

5.  I absolutely cannot sing.

6.  My great-great-great Uncle was John Chapman, known as "Johnny Appleseed."  Since I'm related to a man who walked around the wilderness with a pot on his head, it's okay if I'm a little weird.

7.  My great aunt traveled across the Sahara by automobile when women weren't supposed to do such things.  So now it's double okay that I'm a little weird. 

Now, here are the blogs that I'm tagging: 

First, Bill Sharp, my Portland buddy, also an "over 50" artist who "gets it."

Second, Tina Harris, who was one of the original Loft artists, a fantastic photographer, and a good friend.

Third, Margret E short, who's fantastic Rembrandt project was everything an artist should aspire to, and who hasn't blogged for a while.  I miss hearing about the new pigments she's found.

Fourth, Laurel Neustadter, who's drawing blog and easy style are refreshing and definitely worth checking out.

Fifth, Paulette, who's introduction to her blog "Becoming a Renaissance Woman" is exactly what I aspire to at times.  Especially the fainting part.

Sixth, Joanne B Kaar, whose blog is fascinating.  While I can't exactly "tag" her in the traditional sense, her site is definitely worth visiting.  Read about how she makes fascinating things like kelp paper, and get inspired.  She's an artist's artist.

Seventh, Jeanette Jobson: Illustrated Life.  I found the "save the Bunny" game here, plus, her emphasis is drawing, as are many of the other blogs I'm mentioning.

Now, if you've been tagged, according to the rules you must now reveal seven facts about yourself and tag seven other blogs. 

Save the Bunny

I found this on Jeanette Jobson's Illustrated Life blog.  Jeanette said " You have a minute to bring the bunny back to life. Don't despair if you screw it up. You can try again. Go on, you know you can't resist..." 

She's right, I couldn't resist.  We all need a little stress reliever now and then.  Click here to save the bunny.

Plein Air Painting - a Novice Experience

There comes a time in every respectable landscape artist's career when they have to actually go outside and paint the real thing.  I have been able to avoid this necessity for quite a long time.  I've thought about it, planned.  I've had a french easel for almost two years now and still haven't used it.  Ah, but I finally realized I was out of excuses and if I didn't give it a go, then what kind of artist was I?

And...it wasn't that bad.  In fact it was really fun, other than the yellow jacket that came around once or twice, and the gnats that are still stuck in the wet paint.  Actually, I'm kind of proud of all my planning because, even though I only went as far as the tennis courts at the top of the hill ( now, don't laugh, it was more than three blocks away, I had to drive my car to get there), I had everything I needed and in a convenient, easy to manage form, too. 

So here's a quick run-down of what I learned, for those of you still hesitating:

1. Practice setting up your french easel at home so you don't look like a total nerd out in the field staring at all those little turning things and wondering which one releases the legs.
2. Create a travel painting kit to hold your supplies.  I made mine out of a plastic tub with detachable lid, designed to carry hanging files for the office.  I put in a small metal letter/file sorter (the upright kind) to use as a canvas divider, worked great.  A small roll of paper towels, turps in a glass jar, brushes, latex gloves, and only 8 tubes of paint. For my palette, I bought a cheap picture frame at the $1 Store, took out the mat and put in a medium gray matboard.  It works just like my large glass palette in the studio, but smaller in size (6 x 8).  When I was done, I wiped it off with the paper towels I had been using to wipe my brushes.  Oh, remember to take along a little trash bag, too.
   
3. Small canvases fit into the plastic box: using the divider, I could transport my two wet canvases with little trouble. 
4. Take a camera to photograph the scene for comparison back in the studio.
5. Take a jacket.  The weather was brisk but refreshing.  The wind got a little carried away, though.  Luckily, my canvases didn't fly off the easel.
6. Food and water for those times when you just want to sit there and enjoy yourself.

So, here is the result of my first try.  Here is the view. I love the fantastic clouds we get in the fall.  The sun is at just the right angle to create beautiful skies.  I am really trying to learn how to paint clouds.                                                                  

My first painting.  You can see that there are at least 5 gnats embedded in the sky.

Here is the second try. Fewer gnats. I can see that I am quite comfortable abstracting the ground in a
way that I like, but I am struggling with the clouds.  First I try to abstract them, then I try to paint them realistically, but neither method is completely what I'm after here.  I will definitely continue going out into the "wilderness" to see if I can improve.   

What color Crayon Are You?

I received this link from Vivian Blackburn, who got it from Kathrine Tyrrell.  I'm a push-over for things like this...I'm a green crayon - who knew?

"Your world is colored in harmonious, peaceful, neutral colors.  While some might associate green with money, you are one of the least materialistic people around.  Comfort is important to you...You are very happy with who you are...Your color wheel opposite is red.  Everytime you feel grounded a red person does their best to shake you..." 

I've been told that I must like red because I use so much of it in my paintings...ah-ha!  It's a red conspiracy....it must sneak it there just to rattle me...

It's fun.  Here is the link:  http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorcrayoneareyouquiz/

Why Blog?

I am a relative novice at blogging, trying to figure out what I want Ancient Artist to be.  The one thing I guess that truly surprised me was the number of people actually reading these posts, besides my daughter, who is endlessly supportive and even called me today because she thought my post yesterday sounded rather sad. 

Imagine my surprise, then, when I checked in on a blog I enjoy and found that Kirsty Hall  had actually blogged about some information I sent to her and included not only an image of my artwork, but a link back to this blog. Kirsty shares a wealth of information about why artists should blog,(great for us new-bes) and how she uses her blog to connect to others.  Kirsty is an artist curator in England doing some pretty remarkable work.  She says on her home page, "Capturing the traces left behind by events and finding ways to embody memory within objects are central concerns." (Copyright © 2007 Kirsty Hall)  I relate to this idea; in fact, it's part of the central inspiration behind the Ancient Walls Series, capturing the passage of  generations, the traces of memory found in the layered surfaces of ancient walls.   

detail, Ancient Walls - Fragments @2007

But it didn't stop there.  Katherine Tyrrell, also from England, who's excellently inspiring blog, Making a Mark,is definitely worth the read,  dropped in to comment on an earlier post.  Katherine points out the importance of developing a learning process that suits her and how her commitment to that process is a key element in her growth as an artist.  She is also a fantastic blogger, and I can highly recommend reading her post on Van Gogh.

So now, all I can say is -  wow, I had no idea that these musings about my personal frustrations, triumphs and challenges, would interest others, but I am deeply grateful that so many people are kind enough to connect.   And as I grow into what Ancient Artist is meant to be, I shall be looking at the inspiring work by both Katherine and Kirsty as a guide.

And, as Alyson Stanfield would say, no more PMWP!