Art Journal: The Mask We Hide Behind

My latest art journal: an 8 page book, hand made from cold-press watercolour paper. Acrylic paint, paint pen, collage,
and water soluble crayons.

Last week a friend and co-worker died suddenly. The news was greeted with complete disbelief. Everyone at work walked around in a daze. He was here, and then he was not. Just like that. I had known this man for about 12 years. Maybe longer... hard to remember exactly after so long. But at the moment, with the events surrounding his death, I'm pretty sure I didn't know him well at all.

All this got me thinking about how we hide parts of ourselves from the people around us. I remember someone once telling me they loved working with me because I was so easy going. Uh... what??? Easy going is one thing I am not. Just ask my husband. Or my mom. But in that environment, with those people, it made more sense to be the easy going worker bee that did whatever was asked. I didn't even think about it. I just did it. Now there is the whole social media thing... who posts stuff about how much they hate their job, or the bad hair cut, or the $50 they wasted on something that didn't turn out to be quite as advertised? No one, that's who. It's all a performance aimed at making us look good in the eyes of others. It's a mask. One that only comes off in private.

Masks have always held some kind of strange fascination for me. I love going to the museum and looking at old, carved wooden masks from all over the world. I even have a couple in my home bought from a local carver. I have a pinterest board devoted to them. I've read books about native folklore and the reasons for the various ceremonial masks. It's fascinating.  I was thinking of starting a series of small portraits of my various coworkers (I work at a large company... I wouldn't run out of subjects for a very long time), but now I'm wondering if I can somehow combine that with my love of masks? Don't know, but I may do a few more of these in my journal... just to see.

New Painting: She Who Danced Us Into Being

"She Who Danced Us Into Being", 16x20" mixed media on canvas. Available.

I've been talking to my mom a lot lately. She lives pretty far away in rural, isolated area, and I have to admit I get a bit concerned about her out there on her own, especially since winter seems to have finally set in. So I call often, just to check in and see how she's doing.

On the other end, my son was off school so has been home a lot lately... we've had an never-ending stream of creative, talented kids through the house in the last few weeks... mainly because we have a somewhat soundproofed room in the basement where they can play their instruments without driving the entire neighbourhood nuts.

From time to time I think about my son and how my creative pursuits have influenced how he sees his own. He knows things don't just happen... you have to work at something to be good at it, and you have to get out there and share what you do if you want to have any kind of creative based career. I've been working my side job for most of his life. It's something that is important to me, so I guard my time in the studio. I have to work to be happy. Or even resemble pleasant. This has obviously influenced his attitude toward his own creativity. During the time he was studying for his exams, I heard him playing his guitar. When something unpleasant happens, he heads for the drum kit and works out his frustrations there. In turn he influences me to get into the studio and work out my own issues. It works. For both of us.

The mother-child relationship seems to be a kind of dance... I need to be protective but I don't want to smother, I want to know what he's doing but don't want to pry, I want to help, but recognize he needs to learn on his own. I have a new appreciation of my own mother these days. She did it, not just with one child but with four. How could anyone balance 4 kid's needs and still deal with their own? It must have been incredibly difficult. She sacrificed, she did the dance. And we all turned out to be decent human beings, so she must have done a pretty good job.

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Life Lesson: Dealing with a Crazy Maker

First entry in my art journal in a long time.... I have a new, larger book for 2016, but I thought I'd finish the
one I had going already before I start it. 

A lot has happened in the last year. Enough that I'm doing the annual look-back-at-my-life thing and questioning what I'm doing. One big thing for me right now is my job... I have to have some kind of employment, mainly because I think turning art into my main source of income might suck the joy out of it for me, making me focus more on what sells than on self-expression. There are things about my job that I really dislike, a big one being a coworker who takes out her unhappiness on whoever happens to be on hand, and that person is often me. It's rough bearing the brunt of someone else's discontent... I have enough of my own to deal with, thank you very much. Her very presence stresses me out, not just when she's pitching a fit about something, but even when she's calm... I know it can't last and it's the proverbial calm before the storm. So, I walk on eggshells around her, waiting for the next attack, and I'm tired of it.

For the most part, I have a decent job. I've been there a long time. It would be a shame to have to leave because of one person. With our upcoming "open concept" workspace (which happens tomorrow... yipee) it's going to be a little tougher to avoid her... my primary method of dealing with the issue for the past couple years.  I'm trying to not anticipate the worst. But I'm really good at anticipating the worst. Really good.

I try my best to have some compassion for this woman... we have been friends at various points over the past 15 years, so I know a bit of her history and understand that she is a very smart person in a job that must be, after so many years, boring as hell. She's not horrible, just unhappy. But its one of those situations where compassion will only get you so far. I know you're miserable, but this is not my fault. The only one who can deal with the situation is you. Saying that out loud has gotten me where I am today... on the shit-list. At least I think that's what did it. She didn't actually say. One day we were ok, the next I was (apparently) too stupid to live. Sigh. I guess I should have know how my observations would be received. Even if it is true, it's not the kind of thing people appreciate hearing, especially when they are fuming about something they deem to be out of their control.

At the moment, I don't have much power to control the situation. I don't want to go the contrite route. I may have pointed out the elephant in the room, but I didn't put it there. I can try to be more careful with my words... which right now is easy because we don't talk unless absolutely necessary. I do my best not to resent that management won't deal with it. I wear my headphones so I can't hear the snarky comments and choose to ignore it when she treats me like I don't exist. Those passive-aggressive notes that get left on my desk get dropped directly into the recycling, and the emails deleted. But I still went into fight-or-flight mode when I saw the most recent seating plan and realized they had put me directly beside her. There is only so much I can handle.

After a few days of intense self-reflection, I understand that my reaction to her attempts to manipulate me have everything to do with me, and not much to do with her. I've taken issue with people trying to control me for as long as I can remember... which has, on occasion, resulted in self-sabotage purely out of spite. I won't do that this time. I have to carefully weigh my options and decide if it's best to wait her out or to cut my losses and move on. I guess I should, at the very least, give this new workspace a try. Sometimes things can surprise you.

Happy 2016... let it be wonderful. Please.

"The Winter of our Discontent", 9x9" mixed media on paper. Available.
That orange is actually copper. Again... can't quite get the metallic to look like metallic.

This time last year I was cleaning out my studio, wondering how the hell I ended up with so much stuff I don't use. Some weird psychological block prevented me from using the "good" stuff...  and that had to be dealt with so I didn't become some dysfunctional hoarder found dead under my mountain of unused handmade paper. I managed to do pretty well with that this year... my trips to the art supply store became few and far between, to the point where the newer staff don't even know me by name. Since I am walking distance from the best art supply store in the city, that is a major feat of discipline. Yay, me.

How lucky am I? My friends totally rock...

I've done a decent job clearing out my stash. I was actually at the point where I was thinking I would have to stock up, when I got a text from artist friends who were clearing out their stash. "Do you have any use for this stuff?" she asks... "We're giving up painting and going digital. If you want it, come and get it".

Hell, yes. I came home with a box of new mediums to play with, colours I never would have bought myself, supports in a variety of sizes. And a tabletop easel for working on small pieces. Awesome. I shall have to do something special for them as a thank you. They have loads of art already... but maybe they can find space for another little piece.

I came across a couple interesting ideas for the new year... actually within a week I saw the same idea posted in a few different places in mildly differing forms. Obviously, the universe is going to smack me in the face with this until I take notice. It's a simple idea that reminds us to savour our accomplishments. You take a jar... I happen to have a large mason jar hanging around that just keeps getting moved from place to place, so I'm going to use that... and turn it into the "Jar of Awesome". Every time something good happens, you write it on a piece of paper and put it in the jar. When life gets you down, you can read through all the positive things in the jar, making everything seem a little better. I could have used that a few times over the course of 2015. Ok, maybe more than a few. I may even put up a new shelf in my studio so I can have a new jar for every year... it will remind me that life has been good. Needed on those days when I wonder how much one person can deal with before they crack. 

I also found an illustration challenge that may be good way to make sure I draw on a regular basis. I hesitate to commit to these online challenges, mainly because I know I am easily distracted and the chances of me seeing it through are pretty slim. I suck at these things. But I've bookmarked the site just the same, and I'll see how long I last. It could be a good thing for those I-have-no-idea-what-to-draw moments. 

I don't know what 2016 is going to bring for me. I'll have some new challenges at work... mainly adjusting to a new "open concept" floorplan that is sure to negatively affect my productivity (see paragraph above... the "easily distracted" part. I will need blinders and noise cancelling headphones to get anything done. Who the hell thought this would be a good idea?). My mom will also be moving at some point... somewhere closer I hope, so it will be easier to check in on her. Who knows what else might happen. I am going to try to take it day to day, and make the best of whatever presents itself. I can't change what I can't change, but maybe I can control how it affects me. Maybe. We'll see. 

New Abstract Painting: Inner Fire

"Inner Fire", 9x9" mixed media on paper. Available. 

Somewhere along the line... and I think it was right around when I did the painting "In the Soul's Light"... my focus seemed to change. I'm still painting movement. I'm still working from drawings based on a living beings doing some kind of activity, lately humans dancing. But I've made a subtle shift... somehow I don't feel like I'm painting the exterior of these people anymore. I feel like what I'm digging for is inside. I watch and I draw, and then I try to take this intangible thing... that thing that draws me to certain people, certain movements, rather than others... and make it visible. Does that even make sense?

I like to watch people. It's a form of entertainment for me, as odd as that sounds. Even as a teenager... I would tag along with my friends to the mall, not because I had any interest in shopping whatsoever (still don't: hence, my wardrobe), but because there were always lots of people, and they were all interesting to me. I love watching how people interact. And while watching a group, I can usually figure out the dynamics within the group and how the social hierarchy is playing out. Work is an absolute treasure trove.... and it is about to get better as we move to a more open concept type of seating arrangement (any of my work friends who might happen to read this... just ignore me drawing away in the corner. I'm not doing anything interesting).

The thing for me lately, though, has been to take this interior tangle of feelings that has been dredged up by all the loss in my life recently, and attempt to overlay that onto this stranger dancing in the youtube video I just watched. In a lot of ways, this painting isn't of that ballet dancer,  it's me... my interior mapped on the moving form of that exterior. Or perhaps a combination of interiors, because I don't think I can obliterate their interior from their exterior... it always will show, because that's how people are. I'm painting the relative connection between myself and my subject. I know it seems like I'm babbling here... I'm still trying to sort out exactly what I am trying to do. I think this is going to turn into an actual body of work, which means I am going to have to write an actual artist statement, which means I really have to have clarity on what I am trying to do.

I have to keep going with this. I have other things on my list of things to accomplish in 2016, but this idea is nagging at me, so I will pursue it. That is, after all, what artists are supposed to do... right? Take that little quirky obsession, that one thing that captures you, and chase it down until you understand it. The final result may not be entirely wonderful (or sellable)... but in the end maybe I will have mended that break in my soul, and in some small way, managed to fix myself.

New Abstract Painting: Under a Copper Moon

"Under the Copper Moon", 9x9" Mixed Media on paper. Available.

I'm tired. It's been a busy week. My boy is writing his first set of University exams, so he has been holed up in his room studying pretty much non-stop. Work has been insanely busy and I've been there late pretty much every night this week. My Christmas tree has about 5 decorations on it, and there is all of one gift underneath. In my normal life, I am one for planning ahead... and because I get freaked out in crowds, I have all my Christmas shopping done before December rolls around, my freezer is full of Xmas baking and I know exactly where we're going to be having dinner, or who will be arriving at my door.

This year, my life is chaos. I don't do well with chaos.

I'm doing my best to take a step back and not take on any responsibilities that are not mine. I'm trying (not always successfully) not to freak out about missed deadlines at work, because dealing with the deadlines is someone else's job. I have no shows planned, I have very little work out and about, and I am trying to make sure I get some exercise and outside time every day. I have until the spring to sort myself out... and by then I have to be back on my game. I've got classes to teach, I've got art fairs to attend to.

Anxiety has been one of those things that is ever-present in my life. Over the years I have developed strategies to cope with it. I plan for contingencies. I try to go with whatever is happening in the moment. I focus on letting go of things that aren't important. I try not to take on more than I can reasonably handle. Working in an art journal had seemed to help me sort myself out in the past... and yet that's the one thing I seem to be resisting this time around.

There it is.... Resistance rearing it's ugly head.

I know resistance is usually a signal that I'm heading in the right direction. Have you read "The War of Art"? It's an interesting look at the psychology of creating, from the point of view of an artist. Certainly worth a read... especially for anyone suffering creative block. Anyway... my point is that I need to get my shit together and do something that is going to help my mental state, and I'm pretty sure that should be starting a new art journal. Finding a book that speaks to me will be this week's project. I suppose. Even having said it out loud, I now feel the need to backpedal so I can procrastinate a little longer. Sigh.

Looking at the positive things... I now have a new-to-me vehicle. It's a little Mazda 3 hatchback, with plenty of space to haul around my gear. It has a few quirks... but all cars do when they get older. For the most part it's nice to drive, is pretty good on gas, has an input jack for my music, and is an automatic so my boy can drive it. Check, check and check. Thank goodness for something going right.

The Fine Art of Screwing Up... the Evolution of a Painting

"Vein of Gold", 30x30" Acrylic on Canvas. Available.
The nice part about having a piece that has gone thorough as many transitions as this one is that the canvas is
now beautifully textured. And you can see hints of what has gone before... in many of the grey areas you can
see the green hiding underneath. Oh, and that browny looking colour is metallic gold, in case you couldn't tell.

I've been asked many times how I can tell when a piece is finished. Usually, it's not that hard to tell… or at least with the figurative pieces. If the people look "right", there's nothing there that bugs me, and the attention is in the right spot, then I'm done. It's not so easy with the abstract stuff… I'm not as well versed in the language of abstract art, and sometimes there will be something not quite right but I just can't put my finger on what it is. If I'm being completely honest, it also happens with the figurative pieces from time to time… sometimes I need a second opinion to figure it out, and that's where my artist friends are invaluable. I will struggle with something for weeks, and one of my friends will look at and say "it's the mouth", or something equally obvious. Pretty sure it has something to do with not having looked at it for seemingly endless hours at a time...

New large #painting started. It will change dramatically, but it's a good start. #art #abstractart #totontoartist pic.twitter.com/S74bcDskGi

— Marianne Morris (@morris4of4) August 3, 2015

Lately I've taken to posting working photos online. It can be a bit daunting, since I know that every painting, without fail, is going to go through a phase where I want to toss it. I've been painting off and on for 20 years, and it still happens. All the time. I've been told that my honesty about this is helpful for beginner painters... they see someone that has more experience and still screws up, so they can be a bit more forgiving about their own mistakes.

Detail of a 30x30" work in progress. It's the only bit I like so far. #art #creativity #painting #torontoartist #wip pic.twitter.com/dIuBBkwMJh

— Marianne Morris (@morris4of4) August 12, 2015

I started this painting in August. It's now December and I JUST finished it. And it took a lot of twists and turns to get to where it ended up. I had some idea that I wanted it to be somewhat neutral with a hit of bright colour somewhere, thinking either a blue/grey or green/grey kind of thing. I'm more of an intuitive painter than the kind that plans every detail, but after years of classes and reading and looking at art, I have a pretty good idea what makes a decent composition, and I have fairly good colour sense... even if it doesn't seem to make it from my head to the canvas with any kind of predictability.

Changed my mind... now taking this one in a different colour direction.... #art #abstractpainting #abstractart pic.twitter.com/ZXo4eI1s4v

— Marianne Morris (@morris4of4) October 18, 2015

In the end, in order for me to get something I was happy with, I had to be willing to let go of the bits here and there that I liked, but weren't working with the rest of the piece. That is not easy. When I get something I like my instinct is to protect it at all costs, to the point where I'm afraid to do anything in case I wreck it. Problem with that is the piece never actually gets finished.

There are all kinds of articles online about how you should give yourself permission to make mistakes. I'm a bit of a perfectionist.... more than a bit, actually. I get frustrated when I screw something up, and then I will make an even bigger mess trying to fix it. It took me a long time to get to the point where I will just paint, and be ok... pleased even ...with the result. Especially if it wasn't what I envisioned when I started. Stepping outside our comfort zones and trying new things is how we grow. How we get better. Perfectionism is a mental barrier I had to get past before I could get to the next stage. I think over the last few years I've managed to embrace screwing up pretty well. And I've progressed. So to all you other painters out there, go ahead and make a mess. Screw up royally. Try something you've never tried, and push the limits. After all, it's only paint.