Where to find Inspiration

"Between Deception and Truth", 8x10" mixed media on wood. Private Collection.

Anyone else find winter completely draining? I'm pretty sure my problem is the lack of light from the really short days. The freezing rain/snow/ice combination doesn't help, because even when i can get outside during the daylight hours, I don't want to. There were quite a few years where I would just kinda shut down during this time, and not paint at all. That just made the situation worse, so I don't do that anymore. Instead I bought myself a big-ass sunlamp and plunked it on my studio table, so when I work I can kinda feel like i'm sitting in the sun. It helps.

I remember when I set out to make the move from dabbler to professional artist I talked to a gallery curator about what they expected from their artists. He told me he expected new work on a regular basis, and a working professional painter should be producing around 50 paintings a year. I thought he was joking. At that time I don't think i had 50 paintings all together. It's been the better part of a decade now and I've done 40 or so a year for the last couple years. Most are small, but when I started my main concern was how the hell I would be able to come up with ideas for that many pieces, every single year???

I've found it's not as hard as you would think. Here are a few ideas that have helped me.

Work in a Series

If you have been following my work for a while, you will have noticed that I have different series. My musician/dancers totalled about 50 paintings and spread over a couple years. Then I did the portraits... there were 12 of those. When I moved on to the movement abstracts, I did one after another, each one taking an element from the one before. The landscapes numbered about 35 before I went back to abstract ( I'll go back to those, but not just yet). My 100 square project is 100! Even with these black and whites I'm now on about my 15th. I regularly have about 5 going at a time, usually in a similar colour scheme so I can switch from one to the other when I get stuck. As long as I have something "in progress", I'm good to go.

Carry A Notebook

I carry a notebook in my purse. I used to keep a sketchbook with me... sometimes I still do, but I what I found I used it for was mostly for jotting down things that came to mind while I was doing something else and not for actual sketching. The one I carry is quite small, about the size of my phone, that I got at the dollar store. I have pages of one word things like "butterflies", or "golden yellow and deep blue". Notes about some interesting thing I stumbled upon. And little line drawings that mean nothing to anyone else but get turned into abstract paintings. I know that if I'm ever stuck, I can get out this notebook, flip to a random page, and have somewhere to start. I've got a pile of them now, in a box in my closet. I keep them because every time I do a major clean and get to the box, I flip through them and re-discover things I had forgotten all about. It can send me off in an interesting, new direction.

Figure out what you like

You'd think this would be self explanatory, but it actually isn't that easy. I love abstract art, but not all abstract art. I like big spaces and loose lines and bright colours combined with neutrals. I also love realism but don't have the patience to do that. I tried it, and hated every minute. Everyone has a different thing that turns their crank... I have a photographer friend who focuses on macros of small natural details. That's her thing, and they are awesome. Her other stuff is good, but those detail shots are amazing. I know when i'm bored by my work it will always show and it's time to move on to the next thing. It may drive collectors crazy, but it keeps me interested.

Nurture your other interests

I like to read. I read everything... novels, history books, political magazines, whatever. I also like to go hiking, and I enjoy kayaking. Sometimes those other things work their way into my paintings one way or another. Many of my landscapes are based on places I've been during these excursions and have found inspiring. Even my abstracts are based on things I've discovered while i've been out in the world. Titles can be plucked from a book i'm reading or music i'm listening to . What I'm getting at is that painting does not exist in a vacuum. It is a reflection of the artist, and what I love about life will show up in my work. If I'm obsessed with Egyptian mythology, why would that not provide me some interesting inspiration for my painting? Likewise, if you've all but forgotten about the world around you, your work will eventually all start to feel the same. You've got to fill that inspirational well, or it might just run dry.

Hope this helps my artist friends out there. I think writing about stuff I wish i had know when i was starting my creative journey is an avenue I'm going to explore this year. I still sometimes figure things out and wonder how the hell I managed to be not know this thing after so many years in the art world. It's the "well, everyone knows that, right?" assumption... the answer is usually no.

I'm probably not going to go back to a weekly schedule on this blog.... I'll likely keep to a bi-weekly or monthly post. The break has done me good, but as the world has moved away from the blogging universe to podcasts and videos, there doesn't seem to be much need for me to add my voice here. I do post on social media pretty regularly though, so if you are interested in following what I'm doing that's always an option.

Hope everyone's 2019 ended on a lovely note. I'll see you more often in 2020. Here's to a new decade!

Laments of the Easily Distracted

"In The Deep Mid-Winter", 18x18" mixed media on wood panel. That cool grey is actually silver... so of course, this looks better IRL. The metallic gives it a glimmer when the sun hits it. I'm counting this as one of my 100 Squares, because it's square, and I really wanted to hit the 50 mark by the end of the year. By going larger, I got distracted....

Sometimes I feel like i have the attention span of a gnat. I totally admit it... show me something shiny and I will immediately forget about what I'm doing. It's getting worse as I get older. Sometimes I will start 3 or 4 different projects over the course of a day, and not actually get anything finished. It's quite annoying.

Another problem I have is that I get bored easily. I think that's why I have embraced abstract art the way I have. My figurative work was interesting for a time, but then it became almost formulaic for me, and ceased to be a challenge. And once I'm bored of something, that's it, I can't do it anymore.

Abstract work is different. Every painting presents a new challenge. I think my process suits this aspect of my personality... I start by making random marks, and then I have to make that into something that works visually. The more I do the faster things go.... it's almost like playing chess; I'm improving, but I can't yet see a few moves ahead and figure out in advance if something is going to work or not.

Sometimes things go very slowly. I will do something I have never done before, like try a new medium (I've mixed moulding paste in with my paint on this one to hold my brush marks) or something I'm not sure will work (like this piece, where I stuck peeled off bits of dried paint onto my board before I started). Then have to figure out how to make it work. A future experiment is to give a panel and some mark making tools to my nephew's 3 year old daughter, and then work with what happens there. That should be fun.

The advantage of working small is that even though these experiments can take longer than usual, nothing really takes all that long with you're working on a 10x10" panel. 2018 has been all about the small. But I do think it's time for me to move into the world of larger pieces, so while I still have half my 100 Square Project to finish (this is #50 guys! I hit the half way point!!), I will be starting to work a bit bigger. I've got some 20x20 panels, some 24x30s, and a few 30x40". I've also been toying with the idea of doing another large diptych... even though I'm not sure where I'll put it when I'm done. There are not too many walls in my wee house that can manage a 40x60" painting.

I have some other plans for 2019. Right now I'm working on a schedule of sorts, so my followers can catch what they're interested in. In the world of magazines (where I worked at the beginning of my career) it is an "editorial calendar". I figure this will make it easier for me to create regular, predictable content instead of the haphazard way I've been doing it for the past few years. It'd be good for me not to be sitting down on a Sunday night wondering what I'm going to write about on Mondays blog post. This happens with alarming regularity.

I'll also be migrating my new art releases over to my proper website... because that's really where they should be if I'm going to be serious about selling these things. I'm trying to think like a business owner instead of a flaky creative, being distracted by every shiny new thing that comes along. I've managed to find a focus for my work, and now I need to focus everything else. I'll be adjusting as I go along and see what resonates with my followers... so please, if there is something you'd like to see, let me know and I will do my best to accommodate.

I'm taking a couple weeks off the blog to catch up on other stuff. Maybe even do some social outings and get in touch with friends I haven't seen in a while. I know I need to do some Christmas baking, since I've been asked if the usual cookies are going to make an appearance this year (I totally slacked off last year, and only made one batch of each. Not enough for sharing. My work friends were disappointed).

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, with time enough to do the things you really want to do, not just the obligatory stuff. I'll see you back here the first Monday in 2019.

Peace and Light,
Marianne

Travel as Inspiration

The Bonaventure river in northern Quebec. I sat on these rocks sketching for hours. My backside went completely numb.

Every summer of my childhood, my family of 6 would pile into our station wagon and make the 8hr drive from Mississauga to the Eastern Townships, in Quebec, to visit my grandmother. Being the youngest and the smallest, I would get to camp out in the back with the family dog, separated from my siblings by all the gear. I'd have a sleeping bag and a pillow, paper, crayons and a pile of books. I'd lie back there, listen to the music, stare out the window and daydream. 

Note: This was before seatbelt laws, when you could do that kind of thing and not get arrested. Don't try sticking your kid in the back now unless there is a proper seat with a seatbelt. We would sometimes ride in the back of pickup trucks too. And I'm pretty sure you could get on a motorbike without a helmet if you wanted. It was the 70s.

The fabulous hallway in the Abbey of
St. Benoit du Lac. They make cheese there.
Amazing cheese. We came home
with a cooler full

The Appalachian mountain range runs through the eastern part of Quebec. The highway that connects Toronto to Montreal is a beautiful drive (when you are not actually in either city), with the road being like a valley that had been blasted out of solid rock. As a kid I loved watching those rock walls fly past... I imagined I could see things emerging from them... faces, animals, birds... I always wanted to get out and touch them. Just run my hands over the jagged edges and veins of colour, maybe see if the life I saw was actually there. Of course that never happened. It'd be a death wish to stop on the side of the 401. My dad knew that, but I was always a little disappointed. 

We took my mom along for this trip. We were going to her childhood home and she hadn't been back in probably close to a decade. It was an interesting experience for me... I got to hear stories from her youth I had never heard before. We went places she remembered but I had never been to. The area took on new meaning for me. It was always where family was, a summer get-away spot, but seeing it as an adult meant seeing it for what it had become. And I totally fell in love. 

Waterfall a short drive and a 5km hike through the woods
from where we were staying in St. Siméon. Was totally worth it. 

We went a little further than we had before, since it really was my first time seeing the province as an adult. My husband's family is from Newfoundland, so we met up with them in the Gaspé for a visit. The men in the family are avid fly-fishermen, and this is Salmon season. Happy to report my guy caught a 25lb-er. No photos... given his history with dropping his phone in the river (it's happened twice now), there was no way in hell I would let him take his phone with him if I was there to stop it. Unfortunately I slept in that morning and didn't go. Hopefully he will forgive me one day.

Travel is a way to experience things outside my everyday existence. Being immersed in a different culture brings new and surprising revelations about how we live in comparison to others. Having lived in the Toronto area my entire adult life, I spend much of my time dealing with things that are the norm for city dwellers... pollution, traffic, crowds, concrete, skyscrapers, and angry people (everyone always seems to be angry)... my everyday consists of driving through traffic to a job where I am surrounded by people then back home where I attempt to carve out a place of tranquility for my family. My place to commune with nature is my backyard, and the occasional jaunt to the local park by Lake Ontario, which I cannot even ride my bike to without risking my life.  Every time I visit somewhere smaller and less chaotic, I see a difference that convinces me that we are doing it wrong here. Life can be a whole lot less stressful if we just adopt a different version of what success looks like. 

I returned from my holiday refreshed and relaxed, and ready create. I imagine my work will change, much like it did after my month in Portugal in 2017. I have many new images to pull from, and new memories to inspire me. 

The Abbey at St. Benoit du Lac

A field overlooking Lake Memprémagog, with the mountains in the distance.

A beach along the coast of the Gaspé Peninsula. Look at those rocks. What a colour. 

The setting sun on the Gaspé.