Patricia Saxton, Author at saxtonstudio blog

September 12, 2013 In art, books, children's books, craftsmanship, drawing, fine art, illustration, imagination, life and the universe, work and play By Patricia Saxton

How To Avoid The World’s Troubles and Other Annoying Things

“Gordon” / @Patricia Saxton / Book of Dragons

You could, of course, live under a rock. That sounds uncomfortable though; so, no, that wouldn’t do. But with the world teetering on the brink of lord knows what evil, with clever actors paid to persuade us that we have all manner of ill-health and need to take X drug, with things like the disturbing reality that artist Damien Hirst is a really Big Deal and triple bacon cheeseburgers considered a healthy meal, with baseball heroes letting us down and the Kardashians worthy of conversation, avoidance becomes more and more attractive.

It helps to have a meaty project to get lost in. Say, an illustrated book about dragons : ), or creating the world’s best bread. (I’m reading a book in which the main character is a baker, and it sounds rather yummy, all that dough and kneading and freshly baked bread smell.) You could, of course, read, and then just keep reading ~ since books have a marvelous way of taking you places, away from the here and now. You could take up sky-diving or some other sport where there’s no room for thought beyond your own life flashing before your eyes. You could tend puppies or fill your social calendar with bunco matches (I’ve never played bunco – not sure if this is good or bad to admit). You could build something with your own two hands. You could sail around the world.

If you’re serious about avoiding the world’s troubles and other annoying things, whatever you do, do not turn on the tv. Avoid over-indulgence in social media. Stay away from negative people. Then, focus on the good stuff, no matter how small. Practice gratitude. Be kind. Because life is precious and too short to be fretting over things we can’t control. And just maybe it’ll all go away. Maybe it’s all just a ruse. Maybe whatever happens will simply happen with or without inserting our personal energy. It’s very hard, life. Why make it harder.

It’s not that I don’t care. I do care, maybe too much. It’s not about sticking my head in the sand. Trust me, I get riled. But I’ve realized it’s not my calling to fix the world. A friend, sure. Even a whole bunch of them ~ but the entire world is just too much. If only the world at large would stop all the fussing and fighting. If only.

And so, hours spent creating a dragon that will be part of a book that one day soon may be enjoyed by a fresh-faced, bright-eyed little person – maybe a whole lot of bright-eyed little people – seems a good use of my time. Not only that, you can’t think about annoying things when you’re making art. Works for me.

September 11, 2013 In art By Patricia Saxton

9-11-13

Fireman’s flag, Ground Zero, 9-11-01

9-11. Millions of us will mourn today. We mourn, deeply, neighbors, friends, families; we mourn people we’ve never met. We don’t forget. With heavy hearts we’re reminded that life is fleeting, and yet our hearts carry hope ~ such hope ~ that love, peace, freedom and justice will prevail for our children, and our children’s children; for all humankind.

August 26, 2013 In appreciation, art, color, creativity, design, life and the universe, painting By Patricia Saxton

Saying No to “To-Do’s”

That’s what I’m gonna do ….. see you in a week or so!

August 23, 2013 In appreciation, art, communication, design, life and the universe, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

When Thunder Rolls

So I had a couple of nasty days. The kind “sent to try us”. The Murphy’s Law kind. Fender-benders and lost phones, roads closed, fistfuls of money out the door, that sort of thing. Aggravation.

I kept my cool, though, because I’m like that ~ rational, patient, pretty much calm & controlled when crisis flares ~ but I will admit that privately curses sprang from my lips and a few items were slammed on the ground. Like a rubber band wound too tight. But of course, the rubber band springs back, and so did I. Not much to do at that point but take care of what needs taking care of.

Then the rain came. Buckets of beautiful rain.

There’s nothing quite like a booming, early morning thunderstorm to clear the air. I like to imagine the rain cleansing as the wind whisks our troubles up, thunder rolls them away and lightning strikes out doubt and confusion. As if, for a moment in time, we’re smack dab in the middle of a cosmic realignment.

And then, slowly, the storm eases off, and we’re placed back in our place of reality, somehow revitalized, a little bit liberated. The air somehow new. Angst washed clean. And I’m reminded that “shit happens”, that we do the best we can, that energies can shift quickly and without warning, and that the universe is one great big mysteriously magnificent thing in which we get to play and work and wonder and worry and pray and laugh and learn and love and that making sense of it all just might not be our job.

August 18, 2013 In appreciation, art, inspiration, life and the universe, philosophy, poetry By Patricia Saxton

Becoming Love

I’ve always been an optimist. Still, when I was much younger, concepts like “positive thinking” seemed wise but not very attainable. I hadn’t learned how to access the secret code. And of course, when you’re young and the world is exciting and challenging, stretching every fiber of your being in all kinds of dramatic ways, advice like “look on the bright side” feels insignificant, even powerless, alongside your intense concerns.

The thing is, after a good share of life’s trials and tribulations, I’ve learned a few things. (Funny how that inevitably happens.) One of them is that “thinking positively” really is much simpler and much more effective than I’d imagined way back when. It’s a choice. It’s a decision. It changes everything. Our thoughts then become an attitude and can make life a very different, and better, place.

And, for me, it’s all inescapably tied up with love… a word restricted to a fault by some and used in meaningless excess by others. But of course, it’s not just a word, it’s a state of being that places life in another orbit, a very different, and better orbit. Love is a feeling, an action, and an energy that lives in the root of our being, able to wind around our means and reach out to the tippy ends and edges and way beyond. Love is everything worth anything.

At some point I latched on and haven’t let go of the notion that love transcends all else. When life pulls me down, when it throws me against the wall, I can punch back with love. I know it’s there, love’s essence ~ this great well of God-like, Great-Spirit, Divinely Intelligent, Universal Magnificence – that I can tap into for sustenance. I believe we all can.

It’s an amazing thing, love. There can never be too much.

And so a few lines flowed out the other night (which prompted this whole little essay). Thought I’d share them. (With love.)

Becoming Love

Love someone,
Let yourself be loved,
Do all things with love ~
Work with love,
Sing with love,
Speak with love,
Share with love.
Let love rise like the sun
in your heart
And settle behind your eyes
as the sun goes down.
Drink love into your water,
Pray love into your woes,
Breathe love into your very bones ~
Become love.

Just Love.

– Patricia Saxton

August 13, 2013 In life and the universe By Patricia Saxton

Random Rant on Pants

Okay so this seems totally random, but I’m going with it. I’m driving back from my swim, ready to get back to work, and at a traffic light I’m watching a regular guy cross the street. He’s got his earbuds in, he’s got a white t-shirt on and jeans that slide down to hide any hint of a buttocks and make for short strides that remind me of a dragon (see there? there is some connection to some of my work life…I’m seeing evidence of dragons everywhere now!). And I think, “Who, I mean has anyone, ever, on the face of the planet, actually said (or even thought) ‘oh, hey, now that’s a really great look!'”

Apologies to the guys who’ve succumbed to this form of fashion – (or you can just consider me old and out of touch if you’d like) – but I think you should know that no one finds this attractive, no one thinks it looks cool or hot or even badass. It looks like you’re an overgrown toddler. Sorry. But true.

Or maybe it’s an anti-fashion statement. Or the fact that female fashions are more varied, you need to do something for attention? A rebellion against authority and/or what’s “socially acceptable”? Every generation has their statements to make, I get that. But that this one hasn’t gone away yet truly baffles me. Then there are the ones who go beyond “pants on the ground”, who’ve forgotten they have a waist at all. Do you think we (as in anyone, the universal “we”) want to see your boxers in full glory, your belt precariously fastened beneath your bottom? And for cryin’ out loud, you can’t, can not, tell me that’s remotely comfortable.

My daughter tells me it’s not that anyone thinks it looks good, it’s more that no one thinks it’s horrible enough to make a big deal about. It’s accepted. (Unintentionally she’s reminded me of the “whatever, I’ll do what I want and have it instantly” gene that’s taken hold in some of her generation.) Maybe it’s like bra straps showing. In my day (uh-oh, yep, showing my age here) that was a big no-no. Now it’s nothing; in fact it’s been scaled up to be part of a fashionable look. Still, I don’t see the connection to butt-less pants.

Then I realize, in a sudden flash of insight: You Don’t Care. And how sad is that.

And then I think, why is it that in almost every other species the male tries to impress the female. They are generally the more beautiful of the breed, more colorful, more industrious and resourceful about showing off their best selves. I’m not suggesting that guys should become flamboyant peacocks, but why go in what seems the opposite direction? And then I almost (almost) take it a step towards the sociology behind it and where the human male finds its place in the world today, in the aftermath of (and ongoing) feminism, after “Men are from Mars”, after being told they are irrelevant, too macho, too sensitive, after they get most of the blame for the awful things that happen in the world, and after too many father children they don’t know about nor care for, and after greed and corruption…… there’s a lot going on and maybe they’re just fed up trying to fit whatever mold they’re supposed to follow, because to be James Bond is basically impossible, so……. so they wear their pants in a really stupid way? And what does it say about one’s character if said pants are sagging?

Like I said, this was very random. And I have to add that of course, this little rant does not include all of male-dom, and in fact, there are many good, honest, stand-up guys out there (my father and brothers included). But I do wish that droopy pant-wearers would collectively decide to pull up their damn pants and be the authentic, strong individuals they had the potential to be when they were born. People may say it has nothing to do with that, that they’re fine, they’re just wearing dumb clothes, haven’t we all? But to me it feels deeper than a poor fashion statement. It feels like they’re literally hanging on by the thread of a poorly fastened belt, under the guise of “cool”.

Do you have any dreams? Do you know they don’t have to be pipe dreams, they can be real? (Because it looks like You Don’t Care. And what kind of life is that?) If you do, for starters you’ve got to get off the going-nowhere train, tidy up, think for yourself and stand tall. And wear your pants the way they were designed to fit.

End of rant!

August 10, 2013 In art, books, children's books, creativity, design, drawing, illustration, imagination, words and language By Patricia Saxton

Claws, Scales and Spiky Spines

Did you know that shavings from a dragon’s claw can ward off headaches? And that the hard, shiny scales of desert dragons reflect the sun to keep the desert from burning up? And, how can you be absolutely, positively sure that all those gargoyles adorning the tops of old buildings are really made of stone?

It’s been a long time coming, with lots of starts and stops, (oh, and a little marvel of a book about peace in between…!), but my Book of Dragons is finally on the front burner, and the flames are hot.

It’s amazing what we learn when we walk through the “veil of reality” into a place most people think is strictly imaginary. I suppose it’s a little weird, but I’ve always believed that research pays off ~ so, if, for example, you happen to be making a book about dragons, it’s best to go to the source. Which I am, and am finding out lots of cool new things.

As an aside, a bit about process… Those starts and stops haven’t been for lack of interest, but for lack of dedicated time. The illustrations take many, many (many) hours to complete (this is after you’ve conjured them up, seeing as live dragon models are hard to come by), so are generally not something you can pick up on the fly, or finesse during the odd hour here or there. The writing, while much quicker, tends to evolve as you go ~ and then there are the edits, which can take longer than the writing.

There comes a point, though, when you just have to put your foot down, lay a few things aside (dust bunnies anyone?), say “no” to things that gobble up hours at a stretch, send your Wonder Woman cape to the dry cleaners and dig your claws in nice and deep. Before your publisher gives up on you, before all the kids waiting for the book have grown up, and last not but not least, so you can get to the stash of other stories and paintings and poems waiting in the wings. So if I’m a bit quiet here, that’s where I’ll be for a little while longer, immersed in the land of dragons.

(P.S. Dear Clients, you’ll still come first. Just don’t be surprised if some of your designs are singed a bit.)

August 4, 2013 In art, creativity, design, fine art, imagination, inspiration, painting, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Things to Believe In

Life is a bumpy road. That’s a given. Sometimes the bumps are molehills, sometimes mountains. But I’ve found that there are certain things that help carry me through, that go a long way in smoothing out the rough parts ~ things worth believing in.

I believe in magic. I believe in love. I believe that good trumps evil, that light is more powerful than darkness, that laughter is healing and a kind word can change the course of an entire life.

I believe in hope. I believe in possibility, and creativity, and the strength of gratitude and the power of thought and that imagination is boundless.

I believe that true friendship runs deep, and if you can count your most trusted friends on the fingers of one hand, you are rich.

I believe there are angels who watch over us and angels who walk among us.

And I believe that the potential for what may seem miraculous breathes in every corner, bold and patient and forgiving, waiting as a flower does for the right mix of sun and rain to blossom with new life, and I believe that each one of us has the ability to ignite that magic spark. – Patricia Saxton

July 28, 2013 In art, inspiration, life and the universe, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

On Doing What You Love

Chatting with a relatively new friend the other day, the subject of passion jumped up front and center. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, He’s a musician from a musical family, and we both recognized the kinship that arranges itself between people who are fully immersed in their mediums, driven by some kind of pure but intangible source. The kind of thing you’re not only inspired to do, but “have” to do. The kind of thing that makes your spirit dance and your heart sing.

For my friend and I, it was music and art. But it can be almost anything. You recognize it by the nonexistence of time, by the absence of worry or thought of worldly concerns, by a sense of focus that feels effortless for the most part, and if not effortless, effortlessly enjoyable. You also recognize it when you’ve gone too long without. I know for me, my spirit kicks and screams without proper feedings! I get cranky. I yearn. I hunger. (Hmm, this is reminiscent of needing chocolate… ) I feel out of sync.

It can also arrive at any age. Mine came early (although I didn’t recognize it for what it was for quite a while), but some people don’t discover those things that set their soul on fire until later in life. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that when you know about it, you use it and you do what you love.

I consider myself a living experiment when it comes to doing what you love. I could have dropped off ages ago and taken a safe position doing any number of things in any number of businesses. In my circumstances it might have even seemed the wiser approach. A child to raise, all of that. But I didn’t, and I can’t imagine having done it any other way. Sure, I could imagine greater financial wealth, along with different people, different situations – and probably different worries too. But this is what I know, this path, the one I’ve followed so far ~ and it’s felt right because I’m not denying my spirit a chunk of what it needs, and in turn what I need in order to thrive.

So whatever drives you, what makes you lose track of time and feel alive in your toes, in your blood and in your bones, find a way to build that into your life. Maybe it’s not just one thing (it’s usually more than one ~ for example, drumming makes my spirit do the Lindy Hop, sends me in orbit somewhere, but I’m okay saving that for special days). Pick one and work it! Do what you love. Don’t say “oh someday…” If you feel passionate ~ or just want to test the waters to see if it’s only your imagination ~ carve out the time, some way, some how. Those things that call to you are there, inside you, for a reason. Go! Do! Shine a light, give breath to what you love! Make your heart sing.

Ah! I get all worked up. I want more singing hearts out there, more smiling, uplifted hearts! Spirits on fire with what floats their boat.

But I’ll climb down from my soapbox now. (And since I’ve not been able to forget about that reference to chocolate, off I go to imbibe. … )

July 21, 2013 In art, drawing, inspiration, painting, philosophy, skill By Patricia Saxton

O’Keeffe and Me

I came across some old art, and made it new again. That was fun for me, looking at it with fresh eyes and different life experience behind me.

It also reminded me of “events that shape us”, and never-answered questions like whether our paths are determined by planning, grit and circumstance or if they’re a pre-ordained destiny. Conscious decisions vs. fate. And if it’s a little of both (which is more what I believe), and how they play with or against one another. Because looking back on a lifetime of making art, it’s clear to me that it was there all along, whether pushing up like weeds from concrete when I turned away or fought it, or blooming with passionate contentment when embraced. How it played itself out could have been different, and I’ve often wondered just how much impact different choices would have made ~ but life being both so mysterious and interconnected, who’s to say what other things would come into play when taking a different fork in the road that may have landed you right in the same place.

And what does all that have to do with O’Keeffee and me? It’s a bit of a twisty tale, a piece pulled from the “how I got here” files ~ which I suppose all started with a love for flowers.

In my early art years, I was very focused on honing my skills and basically marveling at the whole process of watching something come to life, through my hands, onto a blank piece of paper. It was “something I did”.

But when it came time for college and higher learning, I didn’t go to an art school. I had an aversion to the possibility of being surrounded by self-important people wearing berets thinking high-minded, overly-grand things about art ~ so I went to a wonderful liberal arts university with a champion football team and kids who studied everything from geology to literature to chemistry, pottery and music. I was already “immersed” in art and that seemed enough reason to study other things. Too much of one thing would have been, well, too much.

At the same time, a quiet rebellion thrived inside me against studying other artists. “Why?” you may ask. Mainly because I didn’t want to be influenced. I wanted my own style to emerge freely on its own. I didn’t want to copy. Second reason, I found art history incredibly boring. History was great, and art was great, but the two together caused much clock-watching, seat-squirming and suddenly heavy eyelids.

Given my ignorance of art history, you might then understand that I hadn’t a clue when during one of my early shows some of my work (like those shown here) was compared to the work of Georgia O’Keeffe.

“Who?”

Well of course I had to find out who this Georgia person was. I didn’t want to be like somebody else! Or worse, have people think I was trying to mimic.

It wasn’t hard to find examples of her work, and as it turned out I was pretty impressed. Flattered too, really. And I understood where they found the resemblance, unwitting as it was. Then I went on to read about her life, discovering that my O’Keeffian connection went beyond art to things like walking similar terrains (Lake George, the southwest and New York City) and even having my own version of a Stieglitz at the time.

My work is not very O’Keeffian these days, but it was a cool pairing back then, and that kind of over-sized styling never left my realm of creative thinking. And while I’m still not a full convert, it also marked the beginnings of my first real interest, outside of a classic admiration for Michelangelo, Norman Rockwell and Andrew Wyeth, in the subject of “art history”.

All because of a thing for flowers. Goes to show we never know what will lead us where, and the journey will happen regardless.