A new year is a blank canvas for new magic

“Do not be a magician - be magic!” --Leonard Cohen

Dec 31, 2022

Working on my paint journals in my studio. These pages are mixed media - acrylic, gouache, ink, and colored pencils.

As I write these words, the year 2022 is drawing to a close.

2023 is opening up to a very different energy.

I’m feeling all the feels - nostalgia, gratitude, and good riddance co-mingle with the anticipation of creating something new, and a relief at completing what needed to complete.

If I didn’t do it yet, it won’t get done in 2022. So, a lot of letting go!

In the spirit of letting go and making room for the new work that is coming in 2023 (more on that soon!), my art sale has been extended through 1/15/23. All paintings on paper are on sale, with free shipping to the USA!

It’s fun to take stock of the past year, and I’m doing it with my paint journals.

I’ve got several sketchbooks that I paint in almost daily. I really miss them on the days I’m too busy with my other work, and simply cannot make the time to paint. I’ve started making painting and drawing part of my morning meditation, and as that is a long standing commitment, it’s helping me to make daily painting a commitment too.

It also helps to have journals to paint in. They are different sizes, and have thick paper in them that can handle the mixed water media I like to work with. I feel very much at ease experimenting with these journals - that’s what they are for.

Creating the space to play, experiment, and explore without fear is integral to making new discoveries.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned doing this is that if I go at a canvas or piece of paper with pure experimenting in mind, I tend to like the painting session so much more. It’s not about the outcome, it’s about showing up and playing. The energy just works so much better, I’m not in effort and that shows in the work I create.

Recent work in my painting journal: acrylic and crayon. I just added a few new paint colors to my stash and am playing around with them. I love mixing opaque and transparent colors, layering them to create new ones.

Having a daily practice works for me.

The way that I give myself permission to find new shapes and forms is to show up and practice, play, and then notice where I get stuck as I go. Is there anything holding me back, wanting me to be perfect or not ‘mess it up’? What inner dialogue is urging me to play it safe? Where’s the negative energy coming from?

After years of making art of one kind or another, I am used to this energy showing up when I’m getting ready to step out, break through an old barrier, and make something really new (to me).

I love working in a paint journal because I can go back over and over into a piece and change it, and it’s right here to refer to again. I recently added the white circles and dots, and a little blue added. I like it so much now!

Every artist has their own internal work to do - it’s one of the beautiful ‘side effects’ that show up when we choose to create something. It is a given, a promise, that when you set out to do something different and new, you’ll run into any of the demands that you play it safe and small. The energy that says you really don’t have anything new or interesting to say will be right there. And all of it’s a lie.

That’s where the work comes in.

The tortured genius is a toxic myth.

Shortly before his 90th birthday, when asked which moment of his life he’d return to were time travel possible, Ray Bradbury told his interviewer: “Every. Single. Moment. Every single moment of my life has been incredible. I’ve loved it, I’ve savored it, it’s been beautiful — because I’ve remained a boy.” Bradbury was a rare and necessary antidote to the tortured-genius myth — that toxic cultural narrative that requires great creators to suffer lest their work have no depth, no gravitas, no legacy.