Three Generations...

Ancestral Procession. Margarete Bagshaw. 2010 Oil on linen. Private Collection, Santa Fe

Three generations of Native American artists made history. Grandmother Pablita Velarde, Tse Tsan, Golden Dawn. Daughter Helen Hardin, Tsa-sah-wee-eh, Little Standing Spruce. Granddaughter Margarete Bagshaw. They broke ground for Native American women and all women in the arts. They achieved international recognition in a time when women were supposed to stay home and keep their heads down.

Margarete writes in her memoir of comparisons between her mother and grandmother and how they encouraged her to “swim upstream.” She compares their outlook on everything from men to carbs. Most crack me up while this one draws a line in the sand for the work of the soul…

“Not now, I have to paint.” — Mom

“Not now, I have to paint.” — Grandma

From Teaching My Spirit to Fly by Margarete Bagshaw, p. 49

I wish I’d known them. Reading their poetry, seeing their art is inspiration. I share this with great respect for all three pathfinders and invite you to explore the legacies of these incredible women…

Pablita Velarde in Her Own Words by Shelby J. Tisdale

Helen Hardin: A Straight Line Curved by Kate Nelson

Teaching My Spirit to Fly by Margarete Bagshaw

Last Light...

“Last Light” Oil. 16 x 20”

This little piece started life as a throwaway palette scraping. At the end of the day, I rub the excess oil paint from brushes onto a canvas before submerging the bristles in safflower oil to reduce environmental impact. When the palette needs cleaning, I scrape the leftovers up-cycle to the throwaway canvas. A throw-away means when you’re working on the “serious” painting and something doesn’t feel right, keep a piece you don’t care about nearby to take frustrations out on, then return to the focus work. This throwaway piece started to exhibit a life of its own and with a little TLC, turned into “Last Light.” I’m currently preoccupied with light and nature settings on smaller canvases that allow practice and exploration. 

I wonder how many of us feel like a throwaway canvas? Will somebody recognize our worth under all the mis-matched lumps? With a bit of attention and care would we bloom and make a contribution to the world? When we look at someone we perceive to be throwaway, lets take a second look… what light is there waiting to be noticed?

Deconstructing Mother Day

“Hope” Acrylic, Steel, aluminum. 24 x 18.” The bridge in the photo is near a small community literally named “Hope.” The child is an early 20th century ancestor.

My respect to women and girls everywhere who make it through Mother Day. A calendar day for courage. Not my point to go there in this essay. My point is let’s get back to the point of Mother Day.

A brief history of ancient times. The Greeks and Romans had cults to celebrate mothers.

A brief history of Mother Day in the last 150 years. Mother Day was intended as a tribute to our individual mother. In a country notorious for desecrating the English language, with the rare placement of a grammatically correct apostrophe, the day became a public commodity. Anna Jarvis is credited with developing the modern Mother Day, however, her own mother Ann Reeves Jarvis had a far more interesting and socially pertinent concept in mind.

Ann Reeves Jarvis was a peace activist who advocated for health and sanitation in the camps of both sides during the American Civil War. She formed in essence grief groups for mothers whose sons died in the war. The public service the women performed gradually evolved into an international peace movement. When men got wind of a growing threat to their favorite game of mayhem, they lobbied for a day to celebrate the women behind the “great men” of this nation. They adroitly returned the spotlight to themselves and their economic self-interest while subtly reminding women of their place. Anna Jarvis advocated for a Mother Day celebration upon the death of her mother Ann. Mother’s Day now extends to over 40 countries. Anna Jarvis was later arrested while protesting the commercialism of Mother Day. In 2019, In the United States, Mother’s Day was expected to gross 25 billion dollars. Billion. 5.something billion dollars in jewelry alone.

I appreciate when my children and friends acknowledge me. They are conscious individuals who don’t need a calendar reminder to be kind and considerate. Mother’s Day has been a can of worms for me since I was a child. I decided to study the history in an effort to reduce the dissonance. Instead, I’m flabbergasted to realize all of the angst and years of anxiety feeling beaten up by an arbitrary date were in reality wasted on an annual event solely intended to realize profits for retailers.

25 billion dollars a year is an astounding figure. What would that much money do for health care, education and poverty? Would people who had food and education be so willing to fall for the promotion of aggression and violence? When people have a safety net of health care they have the emotional and physical strength to look outside of themselves and contribute to easing social ills. And on and on. I’m stating the obvious. The only thing I know for sure is as women, we are better than letting ourselves be used one more time and one more way to make a profit.

Some of my most cherished gifts are those my children and grandchildren have made for me. We have a year to ponder and decide what we are going to do as individuals to return to the original intention of Mother Day. While acknowledging mother and her contributions, is it possible to simultaneously promote peace? Resolve griefs. Serve others. Donate our segment of the 25 billion to an ethical cause? If we spend the day as intended will we ease our own issues? Of course, handmade gifts or time spent require investment of self instead of a credit card swipe to assuage our conscience. You’ll have your own ideas if you think about it. What if we take back our power, step out from behind the shoulders of the historical menfolk and make this day a contribution?

Global Mourning...

“Global Mourning.” Acrylic and mixed mediums on cradled birch panel. 20 x 16.”

This year has been hard on everyone ~ challenging for empaths and intuitives ~ especially in the service professions and first responders. My deepest gratitude.

Initiation...

Last year, as everyone else, I started with one intention and lived out another entirely. This painting began as a “self-portrait.” Most artists do paintings of their own image because we are available models. The work morphed into a consolidated 2020 year in review. “Initiation.” Mixed materials on 300 lb. watercolor paper. 28 x 20”

Prescient...

“Prescient.” Acrylic. 40 x 30.” Planned this painting to be a Bison cow and calf, at least that’s the preliminary work in the sketchbook. As I listened, then moved as encouraged, this painting resulted. Another chronicle of 2020.

Why do our New Year resolutions tank so soon? 

Resolutions are 4000 years plus of embedded genetic code driving us to promise the gods we’ll be good if they don’t rain destruction on us. A few centuries ago, resolutions became a part of western religious observances as a way to determine at the beginning of the year if our moral compass still functions - the irony is not lost. No wonder our intent backfires when an ancient ritual still drives us while society has moved on to the twenty-first century. Our “resolutions” are on a slippery slope to start with. 

The current iteration of manifesting (thanks to The Secret) leads to the same end if we treat the Universe as our personal concierge, especially when other people are involved in our preferred outcome. Herding humans who have no clue what they’re supposed to do for and with us is like minding mice at a crossroads. My rule of thumb is the question, what is my business? Their business? The business of the Universe? I’m over my boundaries if I’m involved in any business other than mine. 

Limiting the Universe to the parameters of our knowledge and imagination also becomes problematic to manifesting anything greater than our information base. Most Alaskan’s don’t know how to swim. The 9 months of ice and below freezing water during the few weeks of summer may have something to do with this. When I went “Outside” to university, the apartment had a pool and I decided I’d learn to swim. Every morning and night, I faithfully repeated the affirmation while imagining backstroking across the pool - primarily because I couldn’t figure out how to put my face into the water and breathe at the same time. I can still do a terrific backstroke, although I need a life vest to snorkel in water deeper than my knees. 

Now, I pause, listen for the right next step, then move forward on my desires one right next step at a time. This leaves the path and future open to coincidences or shifts along the way. When we understand and separate how much of our decisions, responses and feelings genuinely belong to us from what is ancestral, cultural, historical knee-jerk programming passed down from progenitors, we stand a good chance of handling our life as it comes. We all know Yoda stated empirically, “Do. Or not not. There is no try.” 

When we consider our goals and make resolutions have we taken into account our personal rhythms and consulted our heart for preferences? What has real meaning for us? How are we contributing? How are we attempting to propitiate the gods by bartering a sacrifice? How many of our goals initiate from external pressure and become TO DO lists? How many aspirations begin in guilt because society dictates a mainstream norm and our path may be in the margins? 

Last year wound up way different than we outlined in our planners. My first intention of 2020 to support a daily preparation and gallery schedule reads, “No appointments before 10 or during studio time.” I intended to set my jaw with discipline to accomplish and 2020 made it effortless. What a great lesson - what other ways can we build space and time for effortless into our schedules. How can we take the lessons of this year into our future?

How can we metabolize the collective grief, ancestral resonance, personal losses to greater growth? What part of our cultural madness do we want to leave in the dust? Independent of externals, what could you do to be soul happy while meeting your desire to improve? Speaking of happiness, when was the last time you were happy? What were you doing you’ve since forgotten to do? How many times have we attained an objective only to realize the outcome didn’t make us feel well, we weren’t as happy as we thought we’d be? How is the intent of our goals helping us avoid issues central to our life mission? 

Ideally, setting life goals is a combination of a plan with the head and intentions from the heart. If we plan only with the head we can become stuck. If we free flow with intention we are all over the place. We need the integration of both as a container for future progress.  

Everything works better when we honor our feelings. Our life breathes a huge sigh of relief when our personal integrity supports our direction. The heart allows us more flexibility and chance for growth by recognizing serendipitous opportunities along the way. Having a logical direction allows us a certain peace and adaptability even when the unexpected blows up our world. 

So, here’s to 2021.

If you have questions or want to share your story, the comments finally function thanks to Sarah Moon & Co. If you’d like coaching or want to shift old programs getting in your way, connect through the contact page.