not sure

(These leaves are called gunnera and I love them)

not so sure about my work
not sure if it is necessary

yes, it gives me reasons
to get up
to dream, but
it will not save the world

when I was a young mom
I took my first fine arts degrere from Lakehead University

I wrote an essay about Kathe Kollwitz
and Henri Matisse

( I thought it was a rhubarb plant when I planted it 25 years ago)


My thesis was that Kollwitz made her work
because she wanted to change the world somehow
She hoped to make a difference

She was against war
and her paintings and prints about human sorrow
about mothers mourning
and women raging
moved me

they moved me a lot

I was irritated at that time
when I was young
by Matisse
who went to the south of France
and said that he wanted to make
art that soothed people

he wanted his work to make them feel
as if they were sitting in an armchair
and could forget about the trouble out there in the world

(it's sometimes called Dinosaur food)


my teacher at the time criticized me
for these ideas
She was right
I based my argument on nothing
but gut reaction

I looked at Kollwitz's work and saw her clear message

I loved Matisse, but didn't know why
and his words
made me

not sure

now that I have matured as an artist
I understand Matisse

My own work
is about finding heart in the inner world
not the outer

but these days
Kollwitz comes to mind

and I'm not sure 

mystical landscape

go on
move forward

consent
receive

give myself to the open

 make my way without a map

 trust beyond measure

if something is to come, something sublime
it is through risk

leading no one knows where

because there are still flowers
there is the rose

the rose forever opening for the first and the last time

images of sky with many moons, wool, indigo, hand stitch, completed today,
text by Luce Irigaray
the title of the post is because I started reading Mystical Landscapes am filled with emotion by the words and images.        

embroidered with flowers and grasses and trees

It was dry while we were away, then rained the day we returned.

Agnes Martin said: 'when your eyes are open you see beauty in anything'
I see beauty in the poplar suckers in the lawn, and in the tangled flower beds

 fairy trees all over

I have experienced beauty before
in nature, in love, in art.

Something unexpected, like returning home to this fairy land,
recalls the inner happiness of those experiences,
those inner perfect moments as Agnes Martin would call them.

I am overwhelmed by some perfect remembered beauty
triggered by this greenness all around me.

I had a wonderful road trip with Ned.
I truly connected with people, deep conversations, lots of small talk.
Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Quebec

my journal entry july 16:
'you should read your own blog and remind yourself about what you think'
 Penny told me last night

I was nearly normal for almost a month

Now back home, I am beginning to feel inspired again
I read a Mary Gaitskill novel
I listen to the National, loving the lyrics

It is hard for me to be close to people and to hear my heart at the same time.
I create ways to keep them at a distance.  mary gaitskill

I took a photo of myself in the clover to show how it is taller than me

standing like a mountain
standing at a door
in the centre, yet on the edge

I walk through the green lushness
and am reminded to stay empty

the future is a blank page

more images of this embroidery here

let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work
which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished
Mary Oliver

May Harvest

time passes so quickly beauty
brevity

a reason to get up

I've tried not to post photos of my flowers. It seems indulgent, off topic, and as if I have nothing to say about what's going on with my art life. I'm giving in today, because sometimes the art and even more so - the 'life' - over whelms me and I have trouble facing the day. I know that this is all part of being alive, part of the emotional ride, and that once I have some time and space to catch my breath and actually breathe, I'll be revived. But for now, looking at these perky up-right blobs of colour and smelling the wonderful fresh air here in my own yard is reason enough to get out of bed. Aren't tulips wonderful?