Tis The Season..!

I’m a terrible salesperson. Remember how in 4th grade you were supposed to go door to door selling greeting cards or cookies or some such thing? … Not. My. Thing. If I got the least bit suspicious that I might be a.) interrupting or b.) annoying, that was the last door that got a knock from me. Shortly after that experience I vowed never to do it again. It’s just not in my DNA.

That said, I’ve gotten a little bolder. It helps when you have something that’s your own, or something you’re excited about, and even better when others are excited, too. So let me extend my gratitude right now to those of you who’ve bought my books and gifts and shared the love with others. It makes my heart sing. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

It’s also that time of year when people do an awful lot of gift shopping and I figure I’d be remiss not to put in a specific mention of my own offerings, so here you go ~ especially for any of you who are new to my world, or simply need reminding (as in “hey! yes! I could get THAT for so-and-so… perfect!”).

What’s shown below is also what appears on my Shop page. (< listed over there on the left) For future reference, you can check in there anytime to see where to get stuff (although it’s not always decorated with holly and ornaments).

And please feel free to forward to a friend, in case they decide something would be perfect for so-and-so. Thank you! Blessings to you. Thank you. I’ll go now…

 

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Things That Go Bump in the Night (… boo!)

I’ll be missing the trick-or-treaters this year, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get into the “spirit” of things. So I present you with some art and prose to keep the spirit alive. (oh, yea, I said that)  Just remember to keep the little ones safe, stir your cauldrons slowly and never take candy from a goblin you don’t know.

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All Hallows

By Louise Gluck

Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises:
This is the barrenness
of harvest or pestilence.
And the wife leaning out the window
with her hand extended, as in payment,
and the seeds
distinct, gold, calling

Come here
Come here, little one

And the soul creeps out of the tree.

 ……………………………..
Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I
by William Shakespeare

Three witches, casting a spell …
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights hast thirty one
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

 ……………………………..

And a song to sing:
to the tune of “If You’re Happy and You Know It”)

If you’re a monster and you know it, wave your arms.
If you’re a monster and you know it, wave your arms.
If you’re a monster and you know it,
and you really wanna show it,
If you’re a monster and you know it, wave your arms.

……………………………..
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……………………………..

And off I go then.
But first I will leave you with this link to some really cool, very spooky art created by artist Don Kenn. Happy Halloween…. !
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A Plethora of P’s / #28: Patriotism

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

Patriotism is like a giant batch of team spirit… loyalty to your own, devotion to shared values, an overriding love of country, flaws and all. It’s a heartfelt high-five for freedom and a star-bangled banner ever waving o’er the land of the free and home of the brave.

~ Happy 4th of July, America! ~

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Breakthroughs

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Breakthroughs. Aren’t they great? Like clouds parting, the sun bursting through, we see with refreshing clarity, we understand what had been elusive, we discover something previously hidden, we step forward with renewed vision and vigor. The mire behind us. The mountain climbed! Ideas tumble crisp and clean. Insight sharp and heightened. Pieces fit with remarkable satisfaction.

Defined as “an act or instance of removing or surpassing an obstruction or restriction; the overcoming of a stalemate”, breakthroughs are typically associated with things like science and engineering, technology, negotiations and diplomacy, war and peace.

Einstein comes to mind. Thomas Edison, Marie Curie, Benjamin Franklin, Henry Ford, Jane Goodall, Amelia Earhart, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Walt Disney, Galileo Galilei, Alexander Flemming, Leonardo DaVinci, Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton, Mahatma Ghandi, Margaret Mead, … the list goes on. They’re all pioneers, masters of discovery and exploration who achieved life-changing breakthroughs.

But what of us mere mortals who haven’t found our way into the history books? Our “instances of surpassing an obstruction” are just as valid, even though on a personal level (which, of course, is where they all begin…). Our breakthroughs may not change the world; just ourselves ~ our way of thinking, our way of producing, our direction, our relationships, our world.

Yet as we break our barriers, we affect the world immediately around us, whether we know it or not!

That said, I can recall several breakthroughs in my artistic life, and it never occurred to me that anyone might be impacted but me, myself and I. And for the most part, I still hold onto that belief.

But, as any of us become more confident, or satisfied, or spiritually or skillfully elevated, it changes us ~ and that change is bound to show, in some way, in our outward demeanor, in our actions and behaviors, impacting those around us if only by sheer interaction. How much or little, we may never know, but it’s there.

In any event …  my own first memorable breakthrough came in first grade when swarmed by classmates asking me to draw pictures for them. Most requested, next to a clown, was a drawing I did of a girl’s face whose main attraction seemed to be her swirly-whirly hair-do. This was very neat stuff.

Later, at the ripe old age of 9, I entered a national poster contest. I remember working very hard on my drawing of a fawn, which I’d chosen to represent the prescribed theme of protecting our environment, and I remember my total surprise at winning, and I remember feeling really proud.

After that, while going about the business of regular growing up stuff, I basically honed my craft for a long time, enjoying the steps of refinement along the way.

It wasn’t until my early twenties when perhaps my biggest artistic breakthrough arrived ~ in the form of a self-portrait. This one caused great alarm among family members who were used to my straight-forward, more realistic pieces. They didn’t like it. At all. But I was ecstatic! It was a huge moment. Unforced, un-fussed over, and oh-so-liberating. It was no longer just skill, it was skill + expression; for me, a wide river crossed. And without a conscious intent beyond “doing a self-portrait because that’s what artists do”, the result was a near perfect expression of all that pent-up creativity rising colorfully to the surface.

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Since then, more new doors have popped open in the ever-evolving landscape of creative expression. More breakthroughs, some minor, some major, sprinkled like fairy dust along a path set in motion long ago, a seemingly natural course of events ~ with its own timing in place, I might add! You can even start to feel them coming after a while ~ in fact, I’m sensing one coming up here real soon…… so stay tuned!

But enough about me ~ you’ve surely experienced some of your own. Maybe after a long, deliberate, concentrated effort. Maybe they seemed to form out of thin air, when you were focused elsewhere. Your breakthroughs might be far and few between, or bunched together, firing away one right after another. But however they show up, come they will. They’re a culmination of your experience, and they help shape your future, your choices, and your way of being.

And when the moment arrives, it’s a notable shift. A mark of progress. Light and bright and “yessssss!”

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Art Love

Just a quick post to say I fell in love the other day. With another artist. More precisely, with his work. Yes, he was also charming and handsome, but it was his work that first caught my eye.

It happened at a recent “Mansion in May” event ~ where the rooms of old, immensely grand homes (usually no longer occupied) are dressed to the nines by a select slew of interior designers who are no doubt thrilled to have this kind of opportunity to showcase their work.

Andrew’s artwork was the first thing you saw when entering the lavish entranceway ~ and I have to say that after having visited room after room, eventually winding my way to the outdoor gardens and broad, beautiful views, his work had already stolen the show for me.

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I adore how he juxtaposed the old and new in his entranceway ceiling mural. Just brilliant. But he really took my heart away when I saw the monkeys in the study.

With all the fuss going on in so many of the rooms (granted, the designers, understandably, want to show off as much as they can during these rare and well-attended events ~ and what an extravagant, rich setting – a designer’s dream! ~ but more often than not it was way over the top for my taste ~ “less is more” was clearly not the overriding theme), his monkey paintings delightfully brightened the space with the right touch of unexpected whimsy.

And that was when I fell in love. It was all over. Hook, line and sinker.

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More of Andrew Tedesco’s outstanding work can be seen at http://www.andrewtedesco.com/ 

For more about the Mansion in May organization, visit http://www.mansioninmay.org

 

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A Plethora of P’s / #70: Pen (and Ink)

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

saxton.P_penaandink“The pen is mightier than the sword.”

I’ve always liked this quote. It assumes the great power of words, language and intention, which are just a few of my favorite things, along with pens themselves, of course.

[Side note: I’d always assumed this was a line from Shakespeare. Sounds like it ought to be, right? But I was wrong. This is what learned: This line was quoted in 1839 from a play written by Britain’s Edward Bulwer-Lytton, both an Author and Politician of his day. No one remembers the play (Richelieu: or, the Conspiracy) but we’ve all heard the line. Apparently he’s also famous for the opening “It was a dark and stormy night”. I just love learning new things. 🙂 ]

In any event – back to P for pen. This is actually a guest P, created by a friend of mine and presented as a surprise, which truly delighted me. She’d taken a Zendangle course, and this was something she produced. Isn’t it great?! I adore it.

It’s also great because pens have always been an important positive in my own world. I am, in fact, most comfortable with a pen in hand ~ I just think better with a pen in hand. I’m also able to doodle if things are dull on the other side of the table or the other end of the phone, or in meetings, or just as an unconscious release of nervous energy. They’re great for making lists, and of course, for jotting down flashes of brilliance (that may or may not be brilliant on second look). My thoughts flow most easily when writing. As if the connection between mind and hand takes just enough longer than the one from mind to mouth, allowing for a richer expression, rather than a quick one.

Pens and I go way back. As a child I was always drawing and writing. My mother, a poet, was always writing. My parents had fallen in love through letter-writing. Pens were the natural order of things.

Then as my drawing skills developed, I got more and more courageous and soon stepped out of my comfort zone with pencils (which can be erased) to pen and ink (which cannot be erased). This is when I learned, sometimes the hard way, that mistakes a.) happen and b.) are not always remedied, but c.) can sometimes be made into something better. A life lesson from an unlikely source, but a good one I’ve carried with me.

So I, yes, am grateful for pens. And I do believe they are mighty. <3

Here are a few pen and inks from my archives.

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(see our ongoing Plethora of P’s here)

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Searching for Buffalo

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“Searching for Buffalo” / oil on canvas / Patricia Saxton

Several years ago I’d lost my way, so I ran away from one life, back to myself. Ten days turned into three weeks; three weeks turned into six months. It was probably the best gift I’d ever given myself ~ in essence, permission to do what I love; permission to follow my spirit.

It was a time before I became a mother, before I owned a home, before all the responsibility that comes with those kinds of major territories. I had my business, which I packed up (files, computers, printers) and took with me, along with my two cats, a heart that was tangled up in a very wrong place, and a strong desire to feel good, to spread my wings, to reach higher. It was the right time.

After my initial excitement, I will tell you this: panic set in. Friends had helped me drive across the country to the most magical part of the southwest, where I’d rented an incredible home owned by two artists situated on the edge of a national forest, and after I got settled in, and they left, there I was ~ face to face with nothing but myself, my dreams and the sound of coyote calls in the night. I was there to do something I’d often imagined ~ doing what I loved in a beautiful setting, unhampered by schedules, with no distractions, no blockades, no big worries, and with sudden, deep dread, I thought, “What if I fail?” “What if all this creative passion I’ve felt inside is just a cosmic lark? What if I freeze up, if inspiration doesn’t actually flow? What if I’m just kidding myself?” And the answer was, “Well, you’re about to find out.”

So I went to work doing what I set out to do. Following my instincts. Moving as the spirit moved. Every day I hiked, I swam, I painted, wrote and played the piano. I was a river overflowing. I could hardly keep up with all that ran through my veins, onto the canvas, the paper, the keys.

I made friends who introduced me to healing practices beyond measure, other friends who showed me the back roads. I became intimately engaged with the soft, red, craggy earth and rocks that loomed high above and all around. I ran with the open sky, I searched for buffalo, and I discovered a warrior inside.

There has never been any turning back from this experience. Bumps in the road, absolutely. Hard times, sure. All the stuff of life. But I can go back to this place in my mind at will. I can feel the warm rock beneath my back, the big sky above. I can recall the warrior. I can pull up the magic. And most importantly of all, I can know what’s possible if we give it permission.

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Here But Not Here

 

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I escaped today. Courtesy of three little pigs, a pencil and, I suppose, either my inner child or a light-hearted muse. It’s part of a project I’m working on, but, as sometimes happens, it took a turn of its own accord, and I was amused. It’s good to be able to entertain oneself, after all. :  ) To escape life’s more serious avenues and put your own smile on it.

So the turn made me smile, and also reminded me how the making of art is both an immersion and escape. It’s like plunging into the world, while fleeing from it at the same time. Engaged with the world, but not part of it. Maybe it’s the same for the art viewer ~ depending on the piece, a feeling of being somehow here but not here. The connection happens with the senses. Of course thought is involved at different points along the way, but if you start to think about it too much, some of the magic thins.

That said, there wasn’t too much thought involved in this one. The idea had lodged in my mind well before I picked up a pencil, and my job was to simply enjoy the drawing-it-up part, and within that process be transported, for a little while, to that familiar place that is here but not here.

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A Plethora of P’s / #69: Palette

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

saxton.P_palette

Palette is defined as a range of colors, especially those typically used by an artist. But we all have what I think of as a personal palette. Our palette can reflect how we feel ~ or project how we wish to be perceived. What we wear, the colors in our home, foods arranged on a plate.

And surely our personalities have color too ~ the sunny, the brooding, the comic, the serious ~ the whole wide range. And within that, are the shades of our moods. And around all that, there are the colors in our aura. (Imagine, what a kaleidoscope of brilliance we all must make together!)

And beyond all that ~ beyond what they may represent, beyond their gift of making the world more, well, colorful ~ colors, in my opinion, in all their tones and hues and flavors, are essentially magical. They can calm and soothe, they can excite and energize. They can heal, and they can disrupt. They’re emotional. They tell stories. They’re loud or soft, subtle and sensitive, harsh, tender, generous; they’re unyielding, protective, submissive, lighthearted, stormy, hot, warm, cool. They are infinite and inexhaustibly interchangeable. There are worlds within worlds of just the color red alone. The whole spectrum of expression is unfathomable.

So, with all that possibility, you can mix your palette to your heart’s content ~ a dash here, a broad stroke there, a sprinkling of this, a spot of that. (Note: mixing with love and a generous pinch of harmony produces the best results.) However you please, there’s magic for the making, if not only a lift for the spirit.

(see our ongoing Plethora of P’s here)

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