annunciation, the window, Monotype of the Day #759

Day 27 of Year 3

This is the ghost print from yesterday with a few layers printed on top. Yesterday felt like an important print in my spiritual development, a moment of absence and emptying. Consciously adding into that image today feels transformational.

What Else?
By Carolyn Locke

The way the trees empty themselves of leaves,
let drop their ponderous fruit,
the way the turtle abandons the sun-warmed log,
the way even the late-blooming aster
succumbs to the power of frost—

this is not a new story.
Still, on this morning, the hollowness
of the season startles, filling
the rooms of your house, filling the world
with impossible light, improbable hope.

And so, what else can you do
but let yourself be broken
and emptied? What else is there
but waiting in the autumn sun?

From The Place We Become https://amzn.to/3iC9rmb
Found on http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2015/10/carolyn-locke-what-else.html

annunciation, the wait, Monotype of the Day #758

Day 26 of Year 3

All day I tried to get a good watercolor print with no luck. Mess followed mess, much of it due to technical problems. It was terribly frustrating so I went back to my friend, the ink for a few prints at the end of the day. One thing is certain, I definitely appreciate my ink a lot more! Both watercolor and acrylic have lots of possibilities so I'm going to keep at them and see what happens. For now though, I'm still in that uncomfortable in-between place waiting for my flow to return. A new wave is coming but when it will arrive is a mystery. The trick is waiting and remaining empty, holding the space for when it arrives. Waiting doesn't mean stopping work, it means not grasping and not trying to make something happen. It means putting one foot in front of the other and being present so you know when it happens. I think this print captures some of that needed inner spaciousness.

The Avowel
By Denise Levertov

As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.

From The Stream and the Sapphire https://amzn.to/3a97hqO

empty boat, Monotype of the Day #757

Day 25 of Year 3

I'm experimenting with watercolor tonight instead of ink. It's quite interesting to work with because you can layer it on a print in a way that's not possible (or at least easy) to do when painting. This print isn't entirely successful, but I learned a lot and I love nothing more than learning in the studio. The empty boat is me. I am completely out of energy right now. It took determination to get this print done tonight. So I'm off to bed. Sweet dreams to you.

wings & the descent, Monotype of the Day #756

Day 24 of Year 3

I'm so happy! No more self portraits, at least for now. However, I am in a bit of a muddle, I'm in that in between stage, the ebb between two flows. Usually I feel a bit lost during these periods. The antidote to this is to keep working but forget about the product. I try to do this anyway, but it is so much more important in an ebb. If you focus on making good work in an ebb you will get frustrated.. This is a major cause of artist block. Instead, I am using this ebb to experiment. I desperately miss cadmium red light. It is such a passionate color and not available in my inks so I'm experimenting with acrylic paint. I had many disasters tonight- paper gluing itself to my plate and tearing, paint drying to quickly, etc. I was fun though. Here are a couple of my attempts. I've barely scratched the surface here. Looking forward to playing some more tomorrow. xo

print 1: wings

print 2: the descent

self portrait with bird, Monotype of the Day #755

Day 23 of Year 3

Another self portrait. I'll be exited when this topic plays itself out but for now, I submit to what is given.

I Worried
By Mary Oliver

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

From Swan: Poems and Prose Poems https://amzn.to/31peMGf 

self portrait listening, Monotype of the Day #754

Day 22 of Year 3

I'm working through something with all these self portraits. Although I'm not sure what right now, I am sure that it is important stick with this process and listen deeply to see what's on the other side. This piece provoked a strong reaction of discomfort, so much so that I have trouble looking at it. It must embody an energy that no longer serves me and needs to be transformed. Making this print was a start in that process, a moment of identification. Now I need to embrace this discomfort and work with it by making more prints. The act of embracing what is given rather than avoiding it has transformative power. I may never understand the content, much of art works outside of the conscious mind, but I do have trust and faith in the importance of the process.

mask & polishing the mirror, Monotype of the Day #753

751.2.jpg
752.jpg

Day 21 of Year 3

One of the challenges of making art publicly is staying true to your inner voice. Praise can sometimes be a bit of a siren song. Once an artist knows something sells or gets a good response, there is a natural and unconscious tendency to want to continue to produce work that pleases. I've been pouring over the older images in this project in preparation for my book. In the past, I often worked one theme sometimes for weeks. Today I realized that recently I have been unconsciously limiting that practice because I'm worried people might get bored. Luckily, now that I am aware of this, I can release that behavior. I want to listen completely to my inner creative flow without imposing external control. My time in the studio is always a spiritual training and I find that usually external limits come from a place of fear. So tonight's images feel very risky to me, they are different and I'm not sure if they are good, but I'm putting them out there anyway. This project shows what happens on a nightly basis, the good, the bad and the ugly- it's all a necessary part of the process. xo

Print 1: mask

Print 2: polishing the mirror (ghost of the underlayer of image 1)

whoosh and hum, Monotype of the Day #752

Day 21 of Year 3

This is another one of those images that comes back to me in different ways. These ghostly birds stir something inside with their rustling wings blowing things around. Making them, I feel it internally, the movement of ancient dust being whipped up and stacks of paper flying everywhere. A little chaos is sometimes necessary to provide a chance for new growth, new structures, and a healthier internal world.

The Second Music
By Annie Lighthart

Now I understand that there are two melodies playing,
one below the other, one easier to hear, the other

lower, steady, perhaps more faithful for being less heard
yet always present.

When all other things seem lively and real,
this one fades. Yet the notes of it

touch as gently as fingertips, as the sound
of the names laid over each child at birth.

I want to stay in that music without striving or cover.
If the truth of our lives is what it is playing,

the telling is so soft
that this mortal time, this irrevocable change,

becomes beautiful. I stop and stop again
to hear the second music.

I hear the children in the yard, a train, then birds.
All this is in it and will be gone. I set my ear to it as I would to a heart.

From Iron String https://amzn.to/2EDysOU (which I have just ordered!)
Found on http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2015/11/annie-lighthart-second-music.html
http://www.annielighthart.com/ 

looking out, Monotype of the Day #751

Day 20 of Year 3

Always, The Turning
By Dorothy Walters

Yes. I know how it is
to go with uncertain feet,
a burden which grows
heavier
with each step.

I too have felt the silence
fall through the thickening air,
dark currents to carry you
into foreboding channels.

Always, there is the turning,
light descending
into darkness,
the constant reversal
of the poles.

The other face of love.

From A Cloth of Fine Gold https://amzn.to/33jgjjW