Cracking the Code...

I’ve been totally surprised when men stop me in public to compliment the floral shoes, on downtown city streets or plein air painting in the great out of doors. Women, on the other hand, comment on the vibrant stripes. The polarity of opinion appears to serve as a metaphor for the distinct differences between men and women. Perhaps the shoes symbolize the way we view ourselves and our projections for the opposite sex. I may have discovered the next Rosetta stone, a cipher for communication between Mars and Venus. If I can crack the code the Nobel Peace Prize is next. So close. 

Finding the way...

A friend of mine sweeps into town every couple of months.  She’s flirting with Portland, thinking of a move, not ready to make the commitment. She doesn’t really drive here.

I’ve lived in the city for most of a decade, getting to know my way around the quadrants as long as it doesn’t involve I-5. I’ve become an expert at creative avoidance navigation and back ways. 

Both freeway challenged, we were on an adventure to see the amazing play, The Outgoing Tide at the Coho. Point A was Wilsonville, Point B ~ 23rd and Raleigh. For the first time, I drove north on I-5, to 405 and the theatre.  

We had great directions and as we traveled farther into the heart of the city, the signage was more frequent and the markers we’d been given hadn’t appeared yet.  Attempting reassurance, my friend declared:

“They always write way more than you need on a freeway. You don’t need the part for everyone else, you only need the part that tells you where you’re going.”

Words to live by. 

When life is flashing past, sometimes it’s difficult to travel our own path with so many other  trails intersecting while we move at breakneck speeds. Easy to get lost, or intimidated, or sidetracked by something shiny blinking in the distance. In the end, we find our path by tuning in to personal discernment and reading the directions intended for us. Only for us. On our very distinctive route through life. The road only we can follow. 

Just ignore all the signs that aren’t meant to get you where you’re going.

Easy Peasy. 

The Emergency Sketchbook...

I keep an emergency sketchbook in the car in case I get stuck someplace and have art withdrawals. It’s been some crazy places, has as much mileage as the odometer and recently accompanied me to a presentation by Johnny Shaw. Screenwriter and author,

Mr. Shaw shared the secret to success:

“Finish Stuff.”

Finishing something, anything … even the dishes or the last ten reps… is an important springboard to confidence. Too many of us are tempted to give up when we “hit the wall” and as a runner does, if we push through, we find satisfaction in completion and the impulse to continue toward our goals. 

One of the benefits of sketchbooks is the first quick emotional response to the subject that provides information for later studio “finishing.” Here’s a super fast sketch of a stained glass window in the Old Church. When I come to the window again, I’ll have this information to build on for a (possibly) more complete sketch. 

Taos Pueblo Chapel...

Still experimenting with watermedia and gouache in particular. Painting from photographs when I’m stuck inside is a good exercise. I can slow down and concentrate on the capabilites of the medium.