It is Monday morning and a quiet time to reflect, again, and these spells seep into my days as I observe the state of affairs, our country and our direction. While working in the studio, I put on NPR; my favorite news channel keeps me up to date and in tune with the rest of the world but I shut it off too, focusing on my paintings for space to think and to resolve creative questions that need my full attention. However, the news seems overpoweringly gloomy and full of despair and I cannot help but sink into this attitude that our condition is indeed unstable. 
Above is a shaped tapestry. During the past few months, I set up three work stations in my studio. One consists of painting larger works with smaller drawing/painting studies. The second and intermittent activity are the tapestry wall hangings and constructed pieces that are physically demanding and throw a wrench into my psyche as a painter. These pieces are sculptural and I find myself wrestling with these works; the canvas and paint, the sewing on top of sewn remnants forces me to struggle and realize how little I am in control of this travail.
Shown above and below are sketchbook entries which is my third area of the studio and the most fun to do. My sketchbook is like my time off. These drawings are bits and pieces of history that I have collected over the years but have decided to enter them into one book. On the other hand, I have taken reproductions from discarded art books and transformed them to coordinate with other pages. I like the pairing of each.
With the beginning of August, summer shifted drastically - light became dark early in the am and then the rains started. For me, this weather was productive and I found myself in the studio groove working on smaller landscapes studies. This ample time of activity will change too since school starts and I will be busy catching up on income. Above, is my favorite study of trees. How many times can you duplicate trees and reinvent landscapes?
Above and below are more studies on nature landscapes. They are mixed media paintings. I take a lot of remnants that collect from around the house; odds and ends of fabric and old photos and other scraps seem to show up in my artwork. These bits of paper or college materials build a nice foundation or I call it a lift to heighten the work. They invigorate me. You can glue and tear off these extra pieces of paper or objects and the result can push you in another direction.
While I listen to Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust, I sit and stare out the window at the waving trees against the light gray of the sky realizing how I love the constant changing of weather from day to day. Am not a big opera buff either but decided to explore more of this expression while working in the studio and around the house. (I also picked up Verdi's Otello) but now as I observe the outside, I think about what I have done here since my move to Anchorage ten years ago. Here are just a few things worth mentioning in no specific order: 
Shifting landscapes are a series of studies on line, color and space using oil stick and paints. They are casual and abstract renderings of the environment that I see around me while I frequent the outdoors. I reinterpret these surroundings in another way aside from the traditional landscapes that are easily recognizable such as visable mountains, trees, creeks and the lush green that inhabits the Alaskan summers. My works are progressive and ongoing studies and looking at these images can change day to day.
These two works, pictured above and below are studies on clouds. Many times when I am working in the studio, I have no idea where my drawings and paintings will lead me. They are manifestations of the collective unconscious, a Jungian concept that includes a universal library of human knowledge, or sage in the man or the very transcendental wisdom that guides mankind. Jungian theory focuses on dreams and symbols. Certain archetypes are the structure of the collective unconscious such as birth, death, power and failure. I studied Jung in California and as I write this I feel the need to reimmerse myself back into Jung's writings. While at college, I started out as a psychology major and delve into languages, gradually changing to the fine arts after moving to Los Angeles, California. Writing this blog helps me sort out my thoughts and inner/hidden reflections and uncovers the past bringing new discoveries to the present.
Long days with light and uninterrupted periods of space to reflect and to spread out in the sun maybe watering each plant attentively with quiet is a luxury. These gems dominate my summer until I think about the Atlantic Ocean long ago, so vast and sparking with glittering stars atop the surface. I once laid upon my stomach on the sand loving each sensation of time, observing the small tubular water drops that lingered on my tan arms from a recent dip. Feeling my warm breath, I never wanted this moment to vanish. Hot, humid days of people parading the shore with that stunning horizon that I looked at a million times but didn't see and didn't take the time to reflect upon its greatness until now, as I miss this thirty years later.
What every artist depends upon are materials; a good find usually inspires me to get motivated and pushes me into another direction. In this case, I took some old art books that were being discarded from the schools and reinvented them into mixed media works. Sculptural works can be pleasant and this exercise stems around shaping the piece by gutting the contents of the book, adding paint and collaging techniques. The above work is called Botticelli's Prayer Beads. 
For a few years, I had been taking old canvasses and reshaping them by sewing and molding them into objects. Another term for these pieces can be tapestries or scrolls. Fascinated with the aspect of taking painting elements but working without stretcher bars tends to be a tedious production for me. They are works in progress. (The above hasn't a title yet.) Pictured below is a detail of This is where I want to be - tales from a wall flower. The size is 72" x 45" and my more interesting work of unstretched canvas to date, however, time usually tells me if it is indeed anything I want to hold onto. 
Pictured below is the entire piece of the sewn canvas. These works present challenges to me, so I continue onward because I like the physicality of each, the questions, the struggle, doubts and insecurities of trying to make something speak to me. Making artwork is also like having an intellectual conversation with myself, like solving a puzzle or mystery. It is elusive, engaging and mysterious. 
