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Studio Notes II

I had a painting that I wasn’t happy with. I glazed it twice, hoping that would help pull it together. No luck.

Doomed painting

Doomed painting

I actually did more to it since this photo was taken–added shadows to the little house and other areas, toned down the foreground substantially, glazed the painting, etc.

But anyway, last night I painted over the whole thing. It’s weird to work on a painting for months and then suddenly–with a few swipes of a big brush–have the whole thing gone.

But now there are all sorts of possibilities for that canvas.

Of course I’ve gessoed over quite a few paintings in the past year–so many, in fact, that I wondered if I would ever produce anything final. But there’s a time to be done with a piece and let it go.

Here are a couple of paintings I’ve completed in the past couple of months. So far, they are safe from the gesso brush.

Remembering

Remembering

On the Rocks

On the Rocks

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Studio notes I

A few people have asked to see what I’m doing in the art studio (my daughter’s former room). So I’m going to start posting my artwork, for better or worse.
Here are three finished pieces.

Gathering of Women

Gathering of Women

Ravine

Ravine

The Letter

The Letter

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Painting

I took up painting over a year ago, then stopped during the summer of 08. In June 08 I was diagnosed with stage IV cancer and underwent surgery. Chemo in the fall and winter. Then during chemo I picked up art again and began learning in earnest.

Since people have asked to see what I do, I’ll post my work here now and then. I don’t have a particular style yet, as you will see; I’m all over the map. I’m drawn to abstract art, but so far I haven’t done much of that. Anyway, I’m so enjoying the challenges that I encounter in art.

I am just learning…about creativity, about process, about art in general. I love looking at other artists’ work. I absorb so much, and I enjoy seeing how they used color (or didn’t use it) and how they decided to compose the painting.

During my sixth colonoscopy earlier this month, my surgeon removed a flat polyp. No cancer, though! He’s keeping a close watch, and I am still on an annual colonoscopy schedule.

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Our path

Ann on the path

Ann hiking

 

Isn’t it interesting that each of us has to find our own unique path in the world. Even with the billions of people who have lived on this earth, none of us has had exactly the same course of our life.

 

I guess with all the variables in a lifetime and with the changes from generation to generation, this isn’t all that surprising. Still…

 

…it makes each person’s quest unique — for meaning, for peace, for survival. Sometimes we lead long lives and sometimes short lives. But if we have the time and the ability, we can question and perhaps find the route we would like to go.

 

For me, the answers have become simply being, resting in quietness and enjoying the richness and simplicity of each moment.

 

But I no longer lead a hectic life. My children are grown, my marriage is happy, and I left my hospice chaplain job. Life slowed down after my diagnosis of stage IV cancer, and my life took a different turn.

 

I decided to give a lot more time to creative and outdoor activities. I began sketching, painting, and walking and hiking more.

 

I love the time that I have.

 

 

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In the mountains

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Me on the trail

I have been enjoying my “time off” since chemo ended in early January, although I’m still receiving one drug every other week. It has taken my body quite a while to recover from the heavy-duty chemo; I’m not there yet and am learning to live with the chemo after-effects that still remain. If they improve with time, great. In the meantime, I will keep enjoying my life.

My hair grew in a tad curlier than before. The older I get, the curlier my hair gets. I can’t believe I used to have perfectly straight hair when I was young.


I have PET/CT scan scheduled for early September.


A friend and I drove to Rocky Mountain National Park yesterday to hike and sketch. We packed a lunch and art supplies – various kinds of colored pencils and watercolors – and hit the trail to two lakes. Yes, I made it, and with an 18-pound pack!


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Nymph Lake

I will never carry so much again. All I really need for art is a sketchpad, an eraser, and a couple of pencils – no color. I do need my camera, always.


In addition to an excess of art supplies, I toted heavy lunch portions of way too many veggies and grapes, which are full of water. (And I also carried in [but not out] three trays of ice cubes to keep the food cool!) We had enough bottled water and didn’t need more water in the food.


But we made it and had such a wonderful time! One of the lakes had water lilies in it with yellow blooms. Gorgeous place.

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Tuesday

Today I have my infusion of my med and an appointment with my local (as in within a 15 minute drive) oncologist. I’m looking forward to talking with him. I have some deficits from the chemo that I suspect I’ll have to learn to live with. That’s okay.

I have had so much fun with art lately, trying different things. My art lesson was postponed until tomorrow, so I painted for quite a long time yesterday and would like to get back to it today before my appt.

The cat’s chin is on my arm, bobbing up and down, as I type. I type quickly, so sometimes his head is almost vibrating. Why does he enjoy that, I wonder?

Maybe it’s like babies falling asleep on car rides. The rhythmic activity is lulling.

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CT eve

It’s been a good week, although I’ve needed to keep reminding myself to breathe and be peaceful. My CT scan is tomorrow morning. Hopefully, I’ll know the results on Friday afternoon.

Because I felt better about the scan, I was able to enjoy a hike on Saturday with Cliff, and we went for a bike ride on Sunday. When I do those kinds of things, I’m exhausted for the rest of the day. But it’s so wonderful to exercise outside that it’s worth it.

I’ve been doing rough sketches this past week. I took a long fireplace-style matchstick and dipped it in ink and drew with it. It’s hard to control but certainly loosens you up! I sat on a blanket on the lawn in the shade, nestled the ink bottle in among the grass blades, and drew. Nice way to spend part of the afternoon.

The cat is asleep on my forearms as I type, so I’ll quit now, as this is getting uncomfortable (although the cat is snoozing quite comfortably — his head bobs up and down as I type).

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Windy afternoon

I just finished walking the dog for a mile, with the crazy wind blowing my hair every which way. Then I poured a cup of coffee and sat out on the back patio, listening to the wind and feeling the gusts across my skin.

This is where I want to be in the world – in my neighborhood, in my backyard, in my own home. Maybe Cliff and I will do some traveling in the future if it works out, but if not, it’s okay. I love the beauty of the earth that is within my reach.

As far as my physical condition, the fatigue is lightening up a bit, thank goodness, but the neuropathy in my hands and feet persists. I need to be patient with that, because the docs said the nerve endings have to regrow, and that takes a while. We’ll see how much feeling is returned to my hands and feet.

I have been painting quite a lot. Last week I got frustrated and felt that I would never improve. So I took the powdered charcoal into the backyard on a windy day and threw the charcoal onto some watercolor paper. Then I poured water down it.

The papers kept blowing over, so I ended up with an interesting mixture of gray charcoal and brown dirt. I got most of the dirt off, but the little that remained seemed earthy and appropriate to me, so I let it be.

I created some things I liked and some I didn’t. But at least I have a place to start now, which is better than sitting in my studio and thinking dark thoughts about my art ability. I will post photos soon, but I have to finish the art pieces first.

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The creative pull

I’ve always loved art but have been overly conscious of producing bad art. My mother was an accomplished artist. My daughter is an accomplished artist and art teacher. I am just a dabbler, especially skilled at producing unmemorable pieces.

But things have changed. No, my art hasn’t improved. But I am faced with a serious diagnosis.

And I no longer care if I produce insipid art or stupid art or never-let-this-picture-see-the-light-of-day art.

I just want to paint.

So I have taken over my daughter’s old bedroom, set up an easel and some tables, and used a birthday check to buy some saturated, lovely acrylic paint.

With my annoying inner art critic silenced at last, I am having the time of my life. And the creative energy is carrying over a bit into the rest of my days, helping combat chemo fatigue.

I have discovered this little outlet of pure joy, and it is feeding my soul.

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