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a few updates

An artist named Belinda Subraman recently combined my artwork with poetry and music in this video that she produced, titled “Whose Cries Are Not Music”

Poetry by Linda Bennbinghoff, music by Ken Clinger, with reading and production by Belinda Subraman.

Rate and/or comment this video on YouTube


Also, my work was selected to grace the cover of a new book!

ghost_symptoms

Ghost Symptoms: Break The Spell And Be Well (Paperback)
by Kelly Kiernan Ray

Amazon Link

Ghost Symptoms explains how experiences such as emotional trauma and spirit interference affect the human energy field. I enjoy the personal tone of Kelly Ray’s story-telling of personal transformation. I wasn’t very open to the idea of spirit attachments before reading this book, but now understand that it may very well be a common occurrence.  Even without this interest, the personal stories, case studies and historical perspectives makes this a very good read. I especially find the “Claim Your Space” technique very helpful for grounding and clearing my energy field.


Other things on the Horizon:

If you are in Portland, check out my upcoming art classes on my events page. It also includes local galleries where you can see my work in person.


the fruits of solitude

I’ve been craving a bit of solitude lately.  Speaking of this need to a friend, she offered me her place for the weekend, while she was out of town.  After sharing houses for years, this small break was like heaven for me.  I decided to make it into my own little creative/spiritual retreat.  The focus was to read, write, walk, paint and meditate… and nothing else.   I highly recommend this to anyone who feels overwhelmed by the pressures of the everyday.  Whatever it is that engages you with your higher self, focus on nothing but this for a day, a weekend, a week… whatever you can afford to give yourself.

At the outset, I decided not to judge whatever I produced.  This is time for me, not for pumping out salable artwork.  Sometimes the pressure of that is itself debilitating.  I wanted to flow with whatever came up for me.

I started the painting above a little before the retreat, but brought it along to have at least one thing that already had a beginning.  It was the freshest thing in my studio.  It began with star-shaped flowers…. then the swirling sky.  I started to see a bird in the sky, so I painted that.  Then I saw the woman.  It’s not finished, but I sort of like it this way right now.  When I come to a place where I don’t know what to do next, I stop.  I feed my senses with something else until the next step announces itself.  I read, walk or I paint something else.

I was at a loss about what to paint next.  Mostly, I give myself too many choices, so my biggest dilemma is making a decision.  I got up to make some tea and looked at Joy’s walls for a little while.  I found myself staring at a madonna image.  Mind you, I’m not a religious person (in the traditional way, at least), but when a little voice in my head told me to “paint myself as the goddess”, I decided to do it.  The result is less goddess than peasant, but there’s something I like about it.   One problem I had was that the only mirror I had with me was a two inch magnifying mirror, so I can’t see my whole face in it.  I can see one eye, a nose, my lips in isolation… but could not see the whole at once.  So I decided that was my challenge, to figure out how to make them work together. I struggled with the proportions.  I’ve finally come to a place with it that I recognize myself, though there is some odd distortions.  It still needs some work, but I don’t want to overwork it. I want to leave it partly unfinished.

(When Joy came back, she was surprised, and told me that she put that madonna image up for me, and wondered if I would see myself in it).

I started a couple other little paintings which are still in their beginning stages.  In both, I started with a textured background by pressing plastic wrap into wet paint.  It was easy to see trees, branches and leaves in this, so I took out my oil pastels and started to define these shapes.  Not too surprisingly, a river formed in both of these paintings as well.  The image of water and trees is something that bubbles up in meditation frequently these days.   I visualize this body of water (a stream or river more than an ocean).  At first, I am only aware of the reflections on the water.  The water reflects the sky and shadows of trees above.  I feel gently pulled into it.  It’s like I am on an invisible boat.  I don’t have a body, but I sense myself being pulled along the river.  I am lost in the motion of ripples, the reflection, the shadows.  This is the archetypal landscape of my soul: water, trees, sky…

I realize that I want to paint from the source more frequently.  To go outside and paint what I see in the reflections of the water.  But it was a rainy weekend, so I decided “the source” was whatever I could pull out of what I saw in the paint.  These are timid beginnings so far, but I see the potential already.  Again, I like looking at the work before it’s been fully realized.

Another thing I thought about painting (but didn’t) was a pomegranate, based on images that have come up in both meditations and dreams.  But when I opened the fruit, I was confounded by the complexity of hundreds of seeds.  I decided to do a photographic study instead, to help me decide how I wanted to approach the subject before I try to paint it.  The night before I went out to purchase the pomegranate, I burned a candle that overflowed.  I picked up the wax and realized that it also resembled the pomegranate, so I posed it with the fruit, which seemed to emphasize the sense of oozing.  I ran the image through some Photoshop filters to see how different colors affected the image.

In my dream during this retreat, I was eating the pomegranite seeds (sharing it with Joy, who was sharing her home with me).  I looked down on my plate and was surprised to see that the seeds were glowing like little light-bulbs.  I knew it was about embracing the feminine archetype… to learn about and hold this power… and to realize that my connection to this world is through the senses, to embrace that also.


My Personal Altar

my personal altar

My process in the studio is a bit slow at the moment. I don’t feel like revealing what’s going on there now, because it’s still in a progressive state of constantly re-deciding what I’m doing there. One day I think it’s a good time to complete old projects, another day it’s a good time to start a new one. In the meantime, I’ve got about a dozen ideas I’m working on… and none of it at lightning speed.

I decided when I started this blog that it should be about anything that relates to my creative life. Part of my creative life is my spiritual life. In fact, it is the grounding for my creativity (especially when I’m feeling somewhat ground-less, as I have been lately). Therefore, I’ve decided to do a little exposure about my altar, which has been in re-development over the past month. I used to have my altar set up in my attic, as it seemed like the best place for it. It turns out that I rarely went up there, so I bundled up all of my altar objects and brought it down to a space in my bedroom. It’s now much easier for me to remember to sit daily. I usually do this as I begin and end the day, or anytime I feel called for a little silent contemplation.

All of the objects on my altar are of personal significance and aid me in finding my connection with spirit.

The most personal object is a photograph of my father. Looking up into the trees, I feel that it is the one photo that captured his transcendent spirit. I’ve recently been told by a couple of intuitives that he is a guiding angel that is always near me. I was told that he watches me as I paint, and as I sleep. Recently I’ve had a lot of dreams about him, so I’m inclined to believe this (or perhaps I just want to, as I miss that connection I had to my dad). For months after his death, he would come to me in dreams. Often he would transform into an animal… or tell me secrets about “the other world”. Sometimes he would speak to me with no words (yet, it felt like a thousand words at once)… all through his gleaming eyes, letting me know that all was well and that he loved me. I felt like I could have stayed in that moment forever. I know that when I die, he will be the one who brings me over.

Currently, the central object on my altar is this abalone shell, given to me by a friend and spiritual guide. Inside the curve of the shell is a mirrored pendant that belonged to my mom. (It makes me smile to remember a photo of her when she received it as a Christmas gift. She put it on her head and it got stuck on her nose). Thinking of it as a mirror, it reminds me never to take myself too seriously. Also in the shell are about a dozen fragments of writing. I recently decided to write down all of my blessings (because I often forget when I get into my complaining mind). I wrote them on pieces of rice paper, which I plan to glue into a paper-mache bowl.

Other objects include a lovely scarf that my sister gave to me… it’s too nice to wear, and I’d rather contemplate it’s patterns as a backdrop for my Buddha sculpture, prayer bracelets, crystal pendulum, and special stones (picked from the Columbia River banks).

I love this photograph of a Buddhist monk that I got from photographer Lenny Foster when I was lived in Taos. He did a series of beautiful photographs of the hands of the spiritual ordained of other cultures. I love the detail of the patterned robe, the waterlilies in the background, and the ceremonial touching of the prayer beads. While I don’t necessarily call myself a Buddhist, it’s probably the closest alignment I have with “organized religion”… mostly because it relies on personal reflection instead of intermediaries. I do believe that all humans have a Buddha nature, which for most of us lies undiscovered. I also believe in reincarnation. Sometimes it takes many lives to evolve into the discovery of our higher consciousness. I have a hard time remembering prayers, so I’m making it a practice now to place near my altar prayers or poems that inspire me.

Posted by admin on Nov 2nd 2007 | Filed in altar,healing,sacred art,spiritual practice | Comments (1)

a long time coming….

yes, it is.

Ever since I stumbled upon another artist’s blog that mentioned making no apologies for not blogging regularly and only when she “damn well felt like it”, I’ve sorta let myself off of the hook. I started this to keep track of my own creative thoughts, but have found myself on a bit of a treadmill lately, between prepping for street art shows and creating websites. I ride the waves between excitement and exhaustion, but little of my time has been spent in true contemplation of the creative process. In fact, I am growing quite tired of the prospect of reproducing myself so that I have affordable art for the masses. I want to give myself to my painting again. I miss it, and the time spent away from it has left me feeling a bit blocked.

Realizing that I’ve been a bit too driven by product and not having enough time to give myself to my authentic creative process, I’ve decided to take a process-painting workshop this weekend (“Breakthroughs in Intuitive Painting” ). Today marks Day One in the workshop, and though I can’t say that I’ve come to my creative breakthrough yet, I can say that I am thoroughly enjoying the process of painting like a child. It’s exactly what I needed. I’ll write more about this when I finish the workshop.

I almost couldn’t even afford to take the workshop, but fortunately sold a painting a couple nights ago. I thought I was having a bad sales night. First Thursday Art Walk in the Pearl is beginning to look too much like Last Thursday on Alberta, with too many drunk people and a parade of people all looking for a scene of cheap entertainment. Finally, I decided I would just enjoy myself whether I sold well or not. A woman came into my booth and decided that she had to have my painting, “Reaching Out, Letting Go”. She is a therapist, which I appreciate because the painting represents a place of healing for me. A girl stands in a field of flowers, picking seeds, and letting them fly into the wind, where a bird swoops down to carry a seed away. The flowers are St. John’s Worts (a natural anti-depressant). The girl looks like me, wearing a head-scarf (my personal trademark, since I have no hair). It took years to accept myself as a hairless woman since I’ve had alopecia since I was a teen. This was the first painting I created that reveals this… and reflects my desire to let go of what I cannot control. As I move deeper into my personal evolution, I want my painting to reflect more of this spirit. I want it to be wild, unconstrained and joyful. I am on my way.

Yes, I am.

Posted by admin on Sep 8th 2007 | Filed in art,creative process,healing,process painting | Comments (0)