painting Archives - Page 3 of 6

October 16, 2013 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, life and the universe, painting, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Rituals

Yesterday was a perfect east coast Indian summer kind of day. Bright, warm sun, the slightest soft breeze, the crisp scent of Autumn in the air, colors poised to burst. I couldn’t let it pass without being IN it for a while, so I found a way to bask and be productive at the same time (which is pretty much ideal in my book).

How it went was that one of my projects required some simple watercolor work, so – lightbulb moment! – I gathered my wares and took them outside. And while I was setting up my mini-outdoor studio, I quietly reveled in what I recognized as a ritual. A lovely order of steps taken, each part of the process, each one savored. In this case, the table moved and cleared of leaves, chair set in the right light, paints out of their box – all their lovely tones smiling up at me – paper and water placed just so, brushes laid out, noticing how the sun made them sparkle.

This was my ritual; small and sweet. Because, of course, rituals aren’t defined by scale. There are the very grand ceremonial occasions of kings and queens and pope-doms; there are sacred rituals under the full moon. But there are ordinary, every day rituals too ~ rituals that are simply an appreciative way of doing things. Acts that allow space for both gratitude of the moment and your own participation in the creative process. That cause time to pass more gracefully, for things to unfold rather than hurriedly dumped. There’s a time for that too – the quick pulling together, plopping down, instant shifting. And I could have easily done that with my paints yesterday – the end result was relatively simple, and wouldn’t take long. But it felt so much better than rushing to get the job done.

When making the (truly) small, conscious effort to be part of each step, there’s this wonderful sense of being present, being aware of the interplay of yourself and the elements and this sort of fabric you’re weaving with your actions, thoughts and intentions.

In our go-go-go world, we don’t always stop for ritual; we forget. We do one thing and move on. Done. Crossed off the list. On to the next. But it can be so very simple to include a touch of ceremony, and can make whatever task or event or experience more rich and more enjoyable. Preparing a meal. Setting the table. Folding towels. (I know, I might be stretching it a little, and sure, there are some chores you just want to get through ~ but it’s true in more cases than not.) Rather than just blindly “doing”, bring the senses into it. Breathe between steps. Make it a pleasure. Add a flourish of ritual. : )

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 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 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.

July 1, 2013 In art, creativity, drawing, fine art, illustration, painting, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Breakthroughs

They happen when we’re looking the other way. They happen when we’re at the end of our proverbial rope. They happen when we’re sleeping. They happen when we’re on a roll. They happen when we’re at the gym or out to dinner or listening to conversation or reading a book or contemplating a blade of grass. There’s no single formula for achieving a breakthrough – whether it’s personal or professional, they almost seem to have a mind of their own. It’s as though everything in your energy field lines up and you’re open and – “wham!” – you’ve made a leap.

The one key requirement is that we have to participate in our own process.

I made such a leap many years ago ~ not the only one, but a memorable one. At the time, in my early twenties, I’d been drawing for, well, pretty much forever. For a while I drew anything that caught my eye ~ faces, hands, gardens, animals, old mills, tools, you name it ~ honing my skills, mastering my craft. Practice was my classroom, and it paid off. But I didn’t feel very “creative”.

Then one day I thought I’d do a self-portrait. All artists have one, right? So I got my art stuff ready, figuring I’d probably do a realistic pencil rendering, like I did with other portraits. But something entirely different came out.

I remember a sense of being in another zone ~ I’d suddenly switched tracks, landed in a different groove ~ and I went with it. And I loved what happened. It wasn’t another well-executed drawing, it was a true expression! I had no trouble understanding what it was about, and it gave me a real high ~ experiencing that leap and knowing I’d unlocked a door that for some reason I’d previously thought inaccessible. This was huge, and what had been “trapped”, all that color and passion, was oozing out, freed from its imagined confines.

As an aside, I also remember that my family never liked this piece. They see their daughter or little sister looking “odd” with paint dripping all over her face, instead of the sweet chocolate-loving swim-team captain they knew who drew pretty pictures of roses and barns. I can understand that too. But for me, it was an intensely marvelous breakthrough that really opened up my creative faucets and if I’d had any doubt about my path, it was diminished right then and there by a few marker lines and watercolor streams. My muses had decided it was time.

Like I said, this wasn’t the only breakthrough moment, but it makes my point well. We all have breakthroughs, in different forms and guises, and I hope when they happen for you, that you participate, listen and let them flow.

March 24, 2013 In art, creativity, imagination, inspiration, painting By Patricia Saxton

Random Inspiration

I was going to write about how busy I’ve been. How I can’t see past my nose, my plate is overflowing with this that and the other. How there isn’t enough time in the day. How when you’re not getting enough sleep things bother you more – like the fact that ice cream cartons are smaller and lines are longer or that kids rely on electronics too much. Frenzied cleaning binges are also a tell-tale sign of overload.

But then I realized that to some degree, almost everyone I know is feeling a sense of too many to-do’s ~ and how boring it would be to recite mine, however poetically expressed.

So I decided instead to share some cool art, something inspiring, a random artistic discovery. Italy-based street artist Kenny Random, to be precise.

Maybe it’s not new to you, but it was the first I’d seen his work and I fell a little head-over-heels. It feels fresh and charming and raw all at once. Brilliant, actually. Free-spirited and fun. It gives me a happy feeling. And this is something art should do – make us glad we’re here, give a respite from the madness. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

All art © Kenny Random.

February 7, 2013 In art, inspiration, painting By Patricia Saxton

Finding the Sky

I distinctly remember the first time I fell for the sky. I’d admired it before ~ you know, its multi-colored sunsets, fun-shaped clouds, and dreaming up into the soft blueness of it all. But some years back on a trip to Kenya, I fell over-the-top crazy in love.

The vastness, the magnificence, the stunning glory! What a sense of freedom, of breath, of grandness and possibility under that enormous African sky. Scrumptious! I fell pretty hard, and never recovered. Then I fell a second time, in Arizona, and there was no turning back.

Living near the ocean most of my life, I’ve had ample opportunity for drinking in “big sky ” ~ but while that too is endless and beguiling, I guess it’s true that there’s nothing like your first love; or the feeling you’ve been kissed by the sky.

When I’m out and about here in my own neck of the woods, I see buildings and lawns and cars and kids and dogs and trees. The sky is almost an afterthought. It’s just “there” ~ like the stars are there ~ up there, out there, steadfast and constant, serving a purpose without asking much in return. No pomp or circumstance, no royal carpet inviting your senses to wander in its wide open spaces, no obvious offering of lofty shelves for stacking your dreams.

But now and then I remember to look up while I’m walking, smile upwards when sun shines, gaze upwards when the moon glows, and then I realize it’s the same sky I fell in love with before.

For sure, East Coast heavens share different colors and express different moods than African ones, but it’s all one sky; it never left ~ I just have to look harder to find it. And when I do, I breathe a little more deeply, I feel a little less encumbered, and remind myself to look up more often.

{All paintings oil on canvas / Patricia Saxton}

February 3, 2013 In appreciation, art, color, craftsmanship, creativity, drawing, inspiration, painting By Patricia Saxton

Something About Flowers

Aside from their part in the cycle of life, I think flowers are here for 3 main reasons: 1.) to please the senses, 2.) to lift the spirit, and 3.) for artists to paint. They do all three for me, and I guess I’m particularly guilty of the third.

I was the girl who sat for hours in the garden, sketching the array of flowers my father had lovingly planted and tended. They were there, they were pretty, they posed easily, I had time then, and a talent I liked to use. Not for any other purpose than the joy of seeing something come to life, become 3-dimensional on a flat surface simply by touches of pressure and shadings made with a regular old pencil. I was unintentionally honing a craft I would use my entire life.

I drew other things too – the odd sugar bowl, a barn, a tree, portraits from record albums of my favorite musicians. I’d leaf through National Geographic magazine and inevitably find something draw-worthy; a lot of the time it would be faces from places I’d not yet been, faces with great character and expression, or an interesting animal. I didn’t think I was very creative then ~ whether I naturally saw, or learned to see, my time with paper and pencil was all about shades and tones forming something “real”. I was practicing; perfecting skills, self-teaching. As time passed I’d feel free to venture into more “creative” and conceptual territory ~ but then, it was “how well can I draw this?”

So my first flowers were detailed pencil work. I played with ink and then watercolors, and finally oils. Each medium brought a different feeling, different nuances and different kinds of detail. But then, at some point on the canvas I strayed from detail (I’d always secretly wanted to – but old habits die hard, it was my “comfort zone” and received all kinds of accolades, so why stop a good thing?) and let the brush do more of the talking. I liked what it said.

That’s not to say I don’t, or won’t, do more “detail” (one peek at my dragon drawings and you’ll see that’s not been abandoned!), but I love the progression, the change, the freedom that’s come along at this point in the road that says, “Paint it however you want, Saxton. You’ve nothing to ‘prove’ anymore. You’ve earned your wings, now fly!” (Flying would be easier, of course, without the roof-overhead-syndrome, but it’ll all come, in its due time. )

Which brings me back to flowers. Those intoxicating blessings of beauty. They’ll always bloom on someone’s canvas, somewhere, I imagine, til the end of time, including some of mine. And that picture at the top of the page? ~ that’s one (though not from the garden, it calls my name). And I find myself wondering how I’ll paint it. It’s kind of exciting not knowing – letting go of the outcome. Which muse will take the wheel? We’ll see…!

January 21, 2013 In art, fine art, history, inspiration, intelligence, leadership, life and the universe, painting By Patricia Saxton

Thank you, Dr. King.

@ 1964, Norman Rockwell, “The Problem We All Live With”

Thank you for sharing your dream, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. For fighting the good fight. For lifting up the eyes, hearts and minds of millions with hope, peace, perseverance and integrity.

And Norman Rockwell, thank you for your brilliance.

December 5, 2012 In art, books, books & stuff, children's books, craftsmanship, creativity, design, drawing, graphic design, illustration, imagination, inspiration, marketing, painting, peace, philosophy, work and play By Patricia Saxton

Creative Holiday Gifts!

The holidays are kicking into gear, and our shop is always open! Please feel free to share with friends interested in something special, good for mind and soul, priced under $25 and created from the heart. ♥