thoughts on art and creative living

A few months ago, I submitted several images for the publication of the 2011 edition of We’Moon calendar. I’ve just found out that two of my images will be featured in the datebook!

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“Blooming Meditation” and “Aqua Bird Dream” have been some of my more popular sellers whenever I sell my prints or note-cards, so I guess it’s no surprise that these are the ones that caught the jurors’ attention.  What’s even more exciting is that “Aqua Bird Dream” will also be featured in the wall calendar.  Since only 12 images are chosen for this, it’s a special honor.  I’m so delighted to be included in this wonderful publication which has a far-reaching (and devoted) audience!

In celebration of this, I’ve decided to offer prints of these two images at a special low price, for anyone interested in collecting my prints before I hit the big time.    For a limited time, I’m offering prints of these images mounted on wood for a special low price of only $20 each! (normally $24-29 retail, depending on location).  These full-color prints are glued to a 1/2″ thick, quality plywood.  The edges are painted black, and the images are sealed with 2 layers of UV-protection varnish. “Blooming Meditation” is 8×8 inches, and “Aqua Bird Dream” is 8×10.  They’re both ready to hang, or they can also sit on a table or small easel. Or, if you prefer, for the same price you can get either of these images (same size as the mounted prints) on a thinner piece of wood with a glass front, sealed with copper edging.  Just send me an email if you’d like to order either of these.  I will apply $3-4 shipping cost (depending on weight)… or if local, we can arrange for free delivery!

One more offer.  If you’d like note-cards of these, I can also offer them for a special low price of only $3 each, or 4 for $10.

I’ve just finished mounting a show of artworks with the artist Amy Livingstone.  The show is located at the Doll Gardner Gallery (within the West Hills Unitarian Universalist Fellowship). Here’s our blurb for the show:

Synchronicity brought Robin Urton and Amy Livingstone together, leading to an awareness of a shared artistic vision rooted in reverence for the earth. Drawing inspiration from a combination of personal reverie, sacred mythologies, and the world’s spiritual traditions, this exhibit reflects the sensibility of creating art as a sacred act. The intention of the work is to awaken hearts to beauty and the divine presence woven throughout the fabric of everyday life.

I was asked by the curator of the gallery if I’d be interested in having a show, and my only conflict was in having enough work to fill the spacious walls without taking work from my other 2 galleries. This problem solved itself rather miraculously when Amy called the day before my meeting with the gallery. She was looking for a “sanctuary space” to show her own artworks, but wasn’t expecting for an opening to be just a few weeks away. Her canvas paintings of mandalas and sacred artworks are the perfect compliment for my reverie-inspired plexiglass and panel paintings.  Here’s a photo of the 2 of us at the opening:

Though not a common subject for either of us, the artworks that we are pictured with happen to  be our individual responses to 911 and the aftermath of the Iraq War.  Amy’s painting was inspired by a vision she had on a train returning from a the Day of Remembrance ceremony on the 14th (a few days after the attacks), where she saw 2 hands caressing the earth, lifting it out of the ashes. In my painting, “False Liberator”, the blind-folded angel represents a false savior for a culture she knows little about.  Islamic buildings burn in the background while helicopters fly above the scene.

In an informal talk during the opening, we both expressed thoughts about the healing nature of art, and how creating art in itself can be likened to a sacred act. One of the more memorable questions from the audience was whether we felt that art had as much relevance in these times of economic recession.   Amy referred to a comment of a very young member of the congregation, who said that he felt that “the world would be a gray place without art”.  I responded that, even though fewer people can afford original art during an economic downturn, the need for art is perhaps even greater than usual. Art consoles and lifts our spirits.  Of course, it’s sometimes necessary for artists to find supplemental means of supporting themselves, but it’s increasingly important for us to keep the faith that’s required to continue creating our art, whether the sales support it or not.  (I know that I personally need to create art in order to maintain any optimism in my life, so I hope that when the economy returns I’ll have plenty of art stored up when the pendulum returns!)

One great thing about planning for art shows is that it does force me to complete artworks that were sitting dormant for a while.  In addition to “Primordial Slumber”, which graces the invitation, I also completed another painting that I started some time ago.  Here’s a photo of the latest version of my painting, “Deep River Dream”:

It’s usually the case that my favorite painting is whichever one I just finished, so right now, this and “Primordial Slumber” tie for being the closest to my heart.  This one definitely flowed out of me like a dream.  I started with acrylic on frosted mylar, letting the imagery suggest itself through the paint.  The bird was the first image to emerge, then the swirling sky, the star-flowers, then finally the reclining woman, who seems to have dreamed the entire scene into being.   As the swirling sky met the horizon, it became a river.  I decided to let it the river flow out of her ear.  This may seem too eerie for some, but who am I to argue with the suggestions of  my imagination?  (a preliminary version of this painting can be seen on this earlier post).  The painting was re-worked in oil glazes, then surrounded with a gold-leaf border.

If interested in reading more, Amy Livingstone has written a very enlightening article about the show on her blog: Reverence and Art as Prayer.

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 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.

Looks like I’m on a 2 week schedule for posting these days, but I’m not into feeling guilty about it, since I’m a very busy gal. Besides, I get really annoyed by blogs that start out apologizing. The way I look at it, if you’ve got enough time to blog every day, you probably don’t have a lot going on in your life.

So, here I am once again, trying to catch up with recent thoughts and news, in case anyone is interested. I realize that the subheading of my blog, “an artist in conversation with herself and the world” might seem a bit pretentious… as if the whole world cares about what goes on in this little brain of mine. I’m not totally serious about it, though… so I hope it might make a few people chuckle.

A lot of my time these days is spent on trying to figure out how to enlarge the audience of my work. I’ve been doing a lot of artisan fairs, just trying it out. Once I’m into it, it gets sorta addicting. For one thing, I’ve already made an investment on the canopy tent, grid-walls, and supplies for all my prints, magnets, cards, and pendants. Then I’ve invested loads of time into creating my products. Then I have a good day where I meet so many people enthralled over my work that I just gotta keep doin’ it. Then I have a bad day and wonder if I’m not undervaluing the true worth of my art…. like why am I doing silly craft shows when I ought to be in upscale galleries? I was feeling that way a couple of evenings ago, while I was slaving over creating more pendants for a fair the following morning. Since I create web designs throughout most of the week, I generally wait til the last moment to hop to it, and by then my eyes are too bleary to focus on what I’m doing. My attitude gets a little down on the whole idea, feeling the inevitable “my work is too good to slave over trinkets”. The next day, however, I sold an original piece, lots of small stuff, and met someone who may want to buy a large painting. Not bad for a crafts show, I’d say. And I really like meeting the people who are interested in my work. It keeps me buzzing in the high waves for the next couple of days, at least.

The original piece that I sold this time was “The Universal Child”, which is a small painting on glass. I wasn’t particularly attached to it anymore, so I was especially pleased that the woman who bought it is the founder of the Alma Midwifery Center, where she plans to display it. How perfect is that? It was waiting for her (actually, I hadn’t even been showing it before this particular day, so some unknown force was at play when I quickly packed up my stuff yesterday morning).

This is definitely one of the more iconic images I’ve created in my creative career. While I’m not wanting to continue in the vein of creating art that might be considered “religious”, I do want my work to have a spiritual implication. I like to mix things up a bit, though. The hands of St. Francis (the one who talks to birds) seems to visually “hold up” the floating child, who would normally (in an art historical sense) be the image of the Christ child. Instead, I substitute an Asian child to make the point that birth itself is sacred, and all children, from all races are a gift to the world.

Without trying too hard to achieve this specific goal, I would like my art to be a mouthpiece for a spiritual way of understanding things. I don’t want to be lumped in with all of the “New Age” artists whose works purport to have this purpose, but end up being overly sweet and (in my opinion) a bit hoakey. Ever since undergrad school, I’ve had a fear of hoakiness. Maybe I am that, though… and ought to simply embrace it!