Last week I tripped and fell right into a painting that I absolutely loved.

I titled it Possibility Flowers.

Possibility Flowers was ridiculously easy to paint.  No thinking.  It just poured out.

So my first thought was that Possibility Flowers isn’t the type of work I should pursue.

Creating real art should be difficult and even painful, right?

I took what my brain told me was the easy way out and painted more possibility flowers.

Guess What?

It was fun. My heart didn’t feel that is was the easy way out at all.  My spirit soared!

So I painted more, and more, and more of them.

While driving back from Memphis yesterday I realized that I may have reached a point where at certain times the technical aspects of creating a painting might be easy for me now.

And that is OK.  I should enjoy the ride.

For only a few months ago, nothing was flowing off the brush.

Each time I stepped into the studio felt like I was hiking in mud.

So folks, it looks like a lot more possibility flowers are on the way, unless the brush has something else in mind for me.

Me too!

For several months I have considered applying for artist-in-residence programs in various locations across the nation.

I like the concept, living away from home for a few weeks – allowing yourself to focus solely on your artwork. Connecting with other artists and the community. Creating in a different environment with different scenery.

All of these sound just lovely to me.  But there are a few things holding me back.

Obstacles Abound

Most subsidized artist-in-residence programs want the applicants to have a BFA or MFA  (crazy, huh, as regular ole’ Bacholer of Science Degree from the University of Tennessee isn’t good enough).  Another obstacle is the length of the programs. Most artist-in-residence programs last longer than I prefer. 8-10 weeks is the average.

Why Now?

Last week, I took a day trip with my friend to shop at Eureka Springs.  She has recently triumphed over a potentially life-threatening illness and came out clean and clear.  This experience was frightening for her, and for me too.

Not that I would presume to know how she felt, but I did feel some of it.  I mentioned the artist-in-residence thing to her.  She looked me in the eyes, and very clearly with intent, said,

“Don’t put it off.  Do it”

I knew where she was coming from. 12 weeks ago, she might have said something similiar, but not with the same strength and resolve.

I am going to follow her advice.  But instead of applying to an official artist-in-residence program, I am planning a two week adventure on my own.  On the cheap, of course.

This time WILL be different

I have tried this before on a one week solo painting trip to Florida, but many distractions exist there.  Museums, beaches, restaurants.  I also didn’t unplug on that trip.  I continued to use my phone and laptop. See Embarking on a Solo Painting Trip

I don’t label that week in Florida as totally unproductive. I was able to settle down long enough to complete an an in-depth color theory study from a book that I had wanted to work through for quite some time.

I am still reaping the rewards of that labor when I combine complementary pigments, and I finally know how to mix the most beautiful vibrant grays you have ever seen! (humble, huh?)

Looking back through my blog, I also tried this on a weekend back in 2008 with an artist friend of mine. Art Retreat.

Artist-Alone 2011

Instead of artist-in-residence, I am calling this Artist-Alone 2011.  I will secure a no frills cabin, without TV, internet, or nearby restaurants.  Getting the cabin should be relatively easy. I do live in the middle of the Arkansas Ozarks  - woods everywhere and cheap, ugly, cabins galore.

True, I will have to pay for lodging, but I think it will be worth it not to have to share a bunk room somewhere in Minnesota with a bunch of 25 year old artists still feeling their teenage angst and blaming everything on their parents or society.

The Plan

• I will stay 2 weeks.
• I will bring all my art crap this time, so that I won’t wish for something I didn’t bring.
• I will paint all morning, break for lunch, nap, and paint again until dusk.  I will read and journal at night.

That’s a lot of structure for an artist, so I am leaving this schedule loose.  I will indeed blog about it, but on time-delay.  I plan to write with an actual pen and paper, gasp! during my seclusion.

Next Step?

Well, I suppose the next immediate step will be to tell my husband of my grand plan.  He is rather supportive of me. He is also accustomed to hearing about my crazy art adventures and dreams.  I think it will go over OK, not great due to poor timing in relation to our family business.

My timing isn’t the best considering our upcoming family business matters, but I think late September is obtainable.

Secure a cabin.

Raise some money to finance this, if possible.  -  I am going regardless, but it would be nice to pay for it with some art sales.

Have a cabin?

OK, you know I have to ask.  If any of my readers have a cabin up for grabs, free or modest rent, please let me know.  I prefer it to be somewhat isolated, with an indoor bathroom, and sort sort of kitchen.  Nothing fancy.  And you don’t have to worry about me spilling paint.  I travel with lots of dropcloths. I am  also very clean.

How about you?

Have you ever attempted something similar?  I would love to hear about your experience with it, please leave comments below.

It seems if I am not making art, then I am reading about art, artist blogs, books, magazines, gallery news… the list is long.

Artists and art teachers dole out a lot of bad advice. Almost every art instruction or creativity book I read mentions that one should look for art and inspiration everywhere you go. Many advise to carry a sketchbook always, and a digital camera.

For quite some time, I have followed this advice. Packing a camera, sketch materials, sometimes packing too much, sometimes too little.

On my trips, I would often be preoccupied, or shall we say obsessed, with capturing inspriation from the trip. Looking constantly for patterns, shapes, colors, scenery, people, textures, lines, soft edges, hard edges, sunsets, sunrises, play of light, reflections, mood, feeling, abstractions, ….

It was always about capturing images to take home with me.

Now, I don’t capture anything. I simply absorb. I let what wants to go in, seep in. I don’t actively try to remember anything when I travel. I enjoy, I relax.

Upon my return, I find more new colors, textures, and ideas pour out. I don’t go back and rehash my sketchbooks or photos – extracting inspiration from dead images.

I let go, and trust my Divine Creator to guide whatever soaked in on the trip , letting out new ideas, colors, and concepts, as He desires – not as I desire.

Every artist has to find their own way to inspiration.

Read and learn all you can from others, but never forget to make it your own.

Learn to stop following other artist muses.

Take time to find out what works for you at the moment.

Remember, what worked last month, last year, may not still work for you and your artwork.

Agree or disagree? I would like to hear from you, please respond in my comments section below.

PHOTO – picture taken from dock in Key West, Florida, which happens to be my office this morning.

You never really learned to draw
just keep painting

You’re too old
just keep painting

You sold out
just keep painting

There is not enough time
just keep painting

Your studio is cold
just keep painting

Your studio is hot and humid
just keep painting

Your studio had gnats
just keep painting

Your shoulder aches
just keep painting

You are middle-aged, mousy, and a little pudgy
just keep painting

You have fallen into a dark time
just keep painting

Your life is no longer lolli-pops, ponytails, and hearts
just keep painting

Not sure where I am going with this blog post except to say that my studio work lately seems to be returning back to where I started.  I have so many painting that I just haven’t shared with you.  I don’t want to photograph them.  I am not ready to show them to you yet.

I don’t think a painter’s path is linear.  I am not sure it is even a path at all.   Lots of artists refer to their artistic  journey.  Lately, it is more might be more like a tilt-a-whirl ride than a journey.  Looping back again and again,  making me dizzy in the process.

I feel the need to go back and revisit subjects, colors, and patterns that I used to paint when I first began. So OK, well then, I suppose it is time to go there …   again  …  as many times as it takes until I am ready to move on to new work.

I am rather proud that I have the courage to admit this here, in public on my blog.   I think it is OK to loop back around, as much as I wish.  Maybe when spring arrives, it will bring fresh ideas.  Right now, I am looking back, looping back, and finding some satisfaction in writing about it.

Your thoughts?

I work half and half.  Just like the coffee creamer.

Half painter. Half web designer.

Mostly in that order.

Come aboard and let me share a typical day with you.

Morning:

Get up around 7ish.  Take the dog out. Next I do my artist morning pages.  — See Julia Camerson’s book, The Artist’s way.   Make coffee.

Next is the time that determines if I will go straight into the studio or if I will give into the lure of my laptop.  On days where I simply can’t resist, email and Facebook are the first things I do each day.  I try my best to keep this around 30 minutes.  I try even harder to resist the urge to hit the laptop before the studio.  I would estimate I have a 50/50 win loss ration on this.

By 9am I am in the painting studio, aka garage, unless I have an unavoidable appointment somewhere outside of the house.

After filling my water bucket and grabbing my clean brushes from the guest bathroom sink I head out there.  Usually still in my PJs.

First off, I peel yesterday’s dried acrylic off my turkey platters.  I use turkey platters that I bought a few years ago at Piggly Wiggly as palettes.  They are a lot cheaper, at 2.99 each, than the expensive peel-off palettes from the art stores.

After my palette is peeled and my coffee is drank, I get started.  It is best to just jump in.

There is a quiet time each morning when you wonder if IT will come today.  You wonder if you will be able to paint. You wonder WHAT you are going to paint.  Most painters spend a lot of time just wondering.

This is a dangerous time for me, procrastination can set in.  With no clear plan of what to do it is easy to do nothing at all.

I find it best to get some paint on the palette, get something on the table or easel within the first 5 mintues or less.  Any longer and you run the risk of not painting at all that day.  Been there, done that.  Still do it.  But by now, I mostly paint each time I am in the studio.  I am satisfied with mostly.  Mostly is good place to be.

I have learned to gauge my mood to figure out what to paint each day.  By now, I usually just know what to do.  I am either exciting about a new work, excited about finishing a work in progress, or not in the mood to paint at all.

On days when I am not in the mood, I paint edges of gallery wrap canvas.  Technically, this meets the requirement of painting so I can log this into my noggin as a day in the studio.

Sometimes I varnish finished paintings.  Once again, I register this on my guilt-o-meter as a day of painting.  Hey, I did use a brush to apply the varnish!  And varnishing has to be done in order to consider the painting done and move it up stairs to the done pile.

On days where I am floundering for inspiration or motivation, and complete out of edges to paint or varnish to apply, I play with paint and paper.  I typically paint on canvas for what I refer to as marketable paintings.  I play and experiment on paper when I don’t know what else to do.  Most of these find their way later into my Twenty-Something Collection.

Studio Play is important.  I try to play when I feel I should.  I try to paint when I feel I should.

I knock off in the studio around 10 – 11am.  I head inside to the guest bathroom sink.  I clean my brushes.

Did you catch that part?

I will repeat.  I clean my brushes.  Doesn’t matter what else is going on, I clean my brushes.  In the sink, with Mona Lisa Pink Artist Soap.  Every single time.   It takes me at least 15 minutes to clean my brushes.  It is a drag. I don’t enjoy it.

I grab some laptop time until lunch.  Checking email and facebook mostly, catching up on everything that has happened online last night and this morning. Twitter and blog reading falls into this time as well.

So I only paint a few hours a day.  You will be surprised how much this adds up over the course of a year.  I don’t really have a problem the number of paintings I produce each year.  My problem lies in the type of paintings I produce.  They are not cohesive.  I continue my struggle to produce a strong body of work that can stand on it’s own as a collective finished product.  I may adjust my studio schedule next year.

Take the dog out.

Lunch:

12 ish to almost 2 ish.  I either drive to town for lunch with Hubby, or he calls me and asked me what I am doing for lunch.  I take a  long lunch.  Because I can.   I spent many years not being able to do so.  It is a luxury and I enjoy it tremendously.

I cram errands into lunch if possible.  Banking or mini-shopping.  I live 12 minutes from town, so it is no biggie to drive in to eat lunch.  Occasionally I eat lunch at home, perhaps one day a week.

Afternoon:

I am back home by 2pm each day unless I have meetings in town.  My afternoons are all business.  Except for the occasional 30 naptime if I am really exhausted. Oh yeah, and I take the dog out… again.

My web clients come first in the afternoon.  I work on design or updates.

This is my focus time.

Even though building websites is relatively easy compared to the type of work I used to do in my cubicle, I am faster and more productive if I can focus. I enjoy the work, but let’s face it.  I am doing this for money folks.  My passion is painting.

DreamFlyer Original Painting by Cindy Davis.

So I get down to business.   I focus.  I produce web products.  I collect the money.  This allows me to get up and stay in the studio the next morning.  This focused time means actually closing my Gmail tab and closing my facebook tab.   And all the other tabs that distract me.

I know, I know, sounds incredible for those of you under 30.  But really, that is how I am able to get so much done.  FOCUS !!   It is a powerful skill.

If I am caught up on client work, I work on the business of CindyDavisArt.

My own art biz takes a lot of different types of activity to keep it going.  I take photos of my paintings, I load new works onto art retail sites.  I blog.  I read and comment on blogs. I research galleries.  I research art shows.  I apply to shows and galleries.  I cook my books.  I read about art marketing.  I read about successful bloggers.  I get a little facebook and twitter action.

At least one day a week I spend my afternoon upstairs with the finished paintings.  I have to screw wire in the backs.  I pack and ship anything that has sold.  If I have an exhibit approaching, I decide what I am going to take and pile them up in one stack.  I make labels for exhibits to go with the pile if necessary.

I have a lot of oddball activities related to my art business but they don’t really fit into a typical day.  Thank goodness, I don’t have as many typical days as I used to when I worked in the cubicle.  I would estimate at least one day a week is atypical for  me.

I never get finished with work before hubby either comes home or calls.  Never.  I work straight through the afternoon.  If I meet clients, it is in the afternoon.

Meeting clients completely hoses up my work-flow for the afternoon, typically leading to an unproductive day for me.  But the alternative, meet in the morning, thus giving up my studio time is worse.

So, I stick to my guns the best I can.  And try very hard to limit appointments and meetings lunch or later.

Evening:

Hubby and I usually eat supper and spend a little time together.

I take the dog out again.  She has to go out a lot or else this leads to t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

Yes, I work a lot at night. Nightime is laptop time.  Never studio time.  I am a morning person.  I don’t paint at night.  I am cool with this and accept it completely.

I average about 3 nights a week work and 4 nights a week relaxing.  It is a fairly decent mix.

If you all would buy more paintings, maybe I wouldn’t have to work at night and I could relax more.  Really now, is there anything more relaxing than sitting on the sofa and looking at an original Cindy Davis painting hung on your wall?  Wouldn’t you like to come home to this each night?    hee-hee Just a little subtle marketing tip I picked up on the Internet tonight.  How’s it working for ya? Pathetic, I know.   There is some really bad marketing advice out there on the Internet.  –  Results are not typical.  Do not try this at home. –

Thanks for sharing the day with me.

If you have written a post about your typical day, I would love to read it.  Let me step into your shoes for a day.

Just leave me a comment with the link to your post.  I can’t wait to read about your typical day!

I want to offer up my best advice here and now before I really dig into this group and it warps me. I am hoping the group warps me, bends me, and my attitudes.  I am hoping for new ways of looking at old ideas.   I am hoping for progress and change. I am hoping to shed some cynicism I have about the label called “artist”.

Here is where I am tonight with my thoughts on what it takes to get started finding your inner artist.  Some of you won’t like these tips.  They are my very top tips learned from hard work and many failures on my part.  This is not a sugar-coated, feel good list of diddly poop to contrived to feed your artsy fartsy ego and keep you reading my blog.  I have finally grown out of that stage – I think.  (hee-hee)

8 tips for finding your inner artist:

1. Stop talking about being an artist.  Go make something. Every single human being is already an artist.  You are not special.  With practice, whatever you create just may indeed be special.

2.  Learn to be alone with yourself.

3.  Be Quiet.  It is hard to create when one is continually talking. I would explain in further detail but then I would continue to talk to you and that is counterproductive to the entire idea of step 3.       Be Quite.  Rinse and repeat.

4. Stop being cheap out and go buy a few of the tools you need to explore the mediums you are drawn to.  Later buy some more.  You can’t learn unless you have at least some of the necessary tools for your medium.  It is especially difficult to learn to play a guitar without actually having access to a guitar.  And don’t write to me about Playstation Guitar Hero or Wii -  you know what I’m talking about people !!

5.  Make a conscious effort to see your habitat in a new way. If you usually look up, start looking down at small things.  If you usually look down at small things, look up at Grand things.

6. I am sick of hearing you don’t have enough TIME.  Get real.  Every person on planet earth has exactly 24 hours in each day. If you consider yourself an adult, you should be able to manage your time by now.  Not having time to “make” and “do” things creative is a tired, worn out excuse that I am sick of hearing.  If you are busy, lower your expectations.  “Make” and “do” small creative works, jabbed here and there into your life in bits and pieces.  Save them to use later or combine them into larger works.

7. Keep a journal, notebook, sketchbook, voice recorder, digital camera, iphone, … WHATEVER to capture ideas.  Trust me, great ideas never come in a linear fashion during your predetermined “me” time.  Great ideas come in the middle of regular life and will soon be forgotten if you don’t capture them. Learn to hold ideas hostage for another time and place.

8. There are no shortcuts.  Go. Do. Make. Learn.

Gee, I sound like a know it all.  Actually I am not.  I  still feel like I have learned nothing about painting after many years of painting. This is yet another reason why I like to paint so much. I will try to do another top 7 list near the end of my group experience.  Here’s hoping it is better, nicer, gentler, yet still honest.

I typically paint happy stuff, but I am up and down just like everyone else.

These notes were written several months ago. I am a painter, I make no claim as a writer, but would like share my notes with you here, on my blog.

Last last February, to be exact, is when I painted this piece and wrote these notes:

BARREN

Such a horrible painful word when it applies to you. How do I, a woman who has been given buckets and buckets of joy in the form of children, comfort a friend who finds out she now wears the label of barren?

How do I find words ? Do I say something stupid like “I understand your pain”….. Not me, the woman with four children….. I can’t say that to her…… Or to say, “I’m sorry” seems to fall flat.

I can’t mention that the thought of living without my own child is unbearable and unimaginable?
I can’t mention how the bond with my own daughter has been life-altering, forever changing me.
I can’t mention how nothing has ever compared to how it felt to hold my newborn girl in my arms?
I can’t mention how nothing was ever the same again?

The doctor has labeled her sterile, barren, unable to conceive. I think the PC term now is infertile. Old Testament Sarah was “barren”. And old term, but means the same thing today as it did back then. Brings the same pain.

I have no idea what to about this. I can’t make it better.

Well, I better add one exception to the electronic music thing, I will experience electronic music during church this weekend, since we have screaming loud guitars at our cool church.

So until then, I am programming my nails down on the keyboard. I have lot to add to the BeeGreen site. Kristen has been very active this past week and has tons of updates for me to load onto her site.

I also have redesigned the Flint River Web Design site. It isn’t ready to go yet, but I will have some of it up before I unplug tomorrow. I finally got of my duff and got a real domain for my web design business.

I also snagged a very nice photo of a young blond girl ( or is that Bond girl? ) on her laptop in a grassy field for the site header. Looks kinda sorta like Hannah, but not really. Hannah wouldn’t let me take her pic, too busy driving “the car formally known as mine” around town.

Oh yeah, I am not off the grid, only unplugged. I am using light bulbs, hot water, and the microwave. I often dream of getting one of those yurt huts I see in Mother Earth News and living off the grid for awhile. There is a artist community in Argentina that looks very appealing. Those of you who know me well are now laughing, especially since I am such a electronic gadget freak.

Yes, go head, laugh at me!!!! The wonderful thing about being in your 40′s is that you no longer are bothered by people laughing AT you. You actually like it since by 40 you have probably already had your fair share of tears and despair.

If anyone else can join me on this little experiment, please let me know. I would love to read your comments about the experience.

I think it goes without saying that I will be painting for much of my unplugged time, cuzz well duhhh, that is what I DO people. –Cindy

Want more respect in general for your artwork?

It starts at home. Treat your paintings …. like works of art…

Four Tips for getting respect for your artwork:

Don’t sell your work unframed off the floor in public. That means hang it up, frame it or use gallery wrap canvas. Don’t stack paintings in the floor against the wall. It gives a perception that the work is cheap and disposable.

When you hang in a sales venue, always, always, type or at least neatly print a nice, clean label and stick beside the work on the wall with the title, artist, medium, and price. Don’t just use a sharpie, write a price on your business card and cram it into the corner of the frame.

It always “matters”. Hanging some odds and ends at a local coffee shop. It still matters. Be as professional as you can afford to be.

Don’t sell your stuff too cheap. If you treat your art with respect, price it accordingly. Pricing cheap doesn’t bring more sales. It brings the perception that your work isn’t any “good”.

When I first began to explore painting, it was a little like an explosion. I wanted to try everything, paint everything, become everything. It was exciting. It was consuming.

It was hard to keep that up. I am finding this summer in particular a certain comfort from limiting my palette, my subjects, my medium. I am doing small oil landscapes on smooth, slick gesso boards. That’s it this summer.

Those of you who know me well, know this is pretty unusual for me and my short creative attention span. I try to intentionally avoid the confines of control in my studio. That is part of the reason I am in there anyway! Self control is useful for dieting, wine, and driving in Atlanta.

I did not choose these small oil landscapes. They chose me. My studio is really, really hot this time of year. Painting small pieces allows me to paint inside. It is a physical necessity.

It is comforting to know that each day, I won’t need an explosion of creativity to get something on canvas. I have surrendered and accepted my landscape series. I am hoping by the end of the summer, I will have made progress. Whatever progress is for little ole individual me.

I feel comfortable accepting my own definition of progress. I am comfortable using my own measuring stick instead of someone else’s stick.

This landscape series is linear for me. I don’t typically follow a linear journey with my art. Each painting is basically comprised of a series of steps. The steps remain the same, the only the subjects change. I am sure I will tire of it. But for now, with the summer heat, I am enjoying it.

Could it be that I am beginning to mature? nawwww, I think it is just a phase. I will be back to explosions and experiments when the heat breaks. I found a bunch of acrylic mediums on sale last week and I want to try them out and make some bumpy, gritty, blobby paintings maybe with moons again. I also bought a HUGE mop head brush that is waiting for me as soon as the heat is gone.

Cindy