Shayla Maddox

Serenity . 30x40 inches . 2012

2012-01-29T16:54:00.000-08:00

1. natural light

2. interior light

3. mixed interior and uv/black light

4. uv light only

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, varnish, water & light on canvas.

I've said it before, but it keeps becoming true in new ways. This is the biggest full moon I've ever done. It's huge. It's like you're standing right in front of the MOON.

It's funny how from a scientific standpoint, the moon is a cold, dusty, barren environment, but we take such warmth and comfort in its presence. The moon is romantic. It's peaceful. Serene.

The glorious full moon is one of the most beautiful sights we humans will ever experience. I suppose only astronauts have the advantage on beautiful heavenly scenes.

It only makes sense that this moon glows brightly and blue for the entire night. It will always be there to watch over the home in which it's hung, even literally guiding its owner by light in the blackness.

As someone who wakes up often throughout the night, I absolutely require this in my life nowadays. I keep a painting in the bedroom for this reason, and I'm known to walk downstairs to my studio in the darkness just to see everything I'm working on glowing in the dark. At this point in my life and career, my relationship to light within my work has become part of my soul. I can't imagine not having it around. Without it, I can only envision life to be a little bit darker and more depressing.

Light is hopeful.

May it bring clarity and serenity to all who see it in its new home.

The following images show its iridescence:

Viewed standing on the right.

Viewed from the left.

New at Art & Musings: The Artist's Drug of Choice

2012-01-26T09:35:00.000-08:00

Head over to Art & Musings to read my latest column: The Artist's Drug of Choice

"We can be addicted to all sorts of emotions, good and bad. Sometimes a simple bad habit (like laziness) can move so far down the rabbit hole that it becomes its own beast. We can’t see the obvious trajectory of chaos we’re in, even if we’re not enjoying it. We are addicted to the problem because we’ve been doing it for too long. We lose control."

Ready For What's Next

2012-01-13T08:00:00.000-08:00

Normally I'm anti-New-Year's-resolutions, not because I don't believe in resolutions (I very much do) but because I've always thought that resolutions happen all year, not in January, and if you wait until January, you're not really resolving to change anything anyway.

However.

My birthday happens to be in January, so I get to go against all of that, because I do like to meditate on what I want for each new year of my life, and check myself against where I hope to be one day. I've always sort of thought that one should imagine their life at a certain point in the future, not too far ahead, and then work backwards to determine what steps must be taken in order to accomplish that image of yourself.

In my late 20s, I saw 30 as a distinct marking point along my path in life. I did not fear it as some around me seemed to, but instead used it as a goal to give myself direction. I felt there were aspects of my life that I wanted to be a certain way when I turned 30, and if those things were met or close to being met, then I was on the right track. It gave me positive pressure to work under. If my life was clearly moving along the direction I wanted it to be, what did I have to fear about any age?

I think because of this, I have adored my 30s. I'm much happier in this decade than any one before it. Granted, I'm only two years into it, but so far, so good. It's only just begun and I've already accomplished so much.

In this last year alone, I've gone to Japan and Kauai, had a very successful sold out show in Los Angeles that I put on myself, tripled my income, begun writing with true intention and regularity, paid off all our consumer debt, started saving money, am more fit than I've ever been in my life and have conquered a 16 year old dream to be a fighter and an athlete by taking up martial arts.

I also said goodbye to my best friend, which was certainly not the highlight of my year, but I'm incredibly proud of how we handled the situation and I'm eternally grateful that he stuck with me for as long as he did. I can't express that enough. His death was difficult, but his life was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

It's been a pretty significant year.

And I have to wonder how much more I will accomplish this year than last. There's nothing but fear and doubt to tell me otherwise, and I'm not really interested in paying that attention right now. At least not for my birthday. For my birthday, I give myself the freedom to know that this year will be awesome in ways I could never have imagined and that I will grow to be even closer to my ideal.

I have some pretty giant goals in mind for the next phase of my life.

I'm really looking forward to it.

Newest Art & Musings! The Highs and Lows (of making art)

2012-01-11T15:32:00.000-08:00

(This picture is simply the shadows of the outside trees on a blank canvas in my studio. Neat, right?)

"In my art, I like to risk ruining everything, only to eventually save it. I’ll often do something drastic, like throw blue paint where it wasn’t intended, and suffer the repercussions of doing so as though it were a surprise. I’m sure there’s a very obvious psychological reflection of what that means in my own personal life, but hey. That’s why I’m an artist."

Head over to Art & Musings to read the full piece!

Reverie . 20x20 inches . 2012

2012-01-10T15:02:00.000-08:00

Clouds! :oO

1. natural light

2. artificial interior light

3. artificial and UV light combined

4. UV light alone

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, glass beads, varnish, water & light on canvas.

I sort of became obsessed with making clouds after painting The Shire last year. This started out as just a test run for a bigger cloud painting, but then I couldn't figure out why not to make it a cloud painting in its own right. So it was.

As usual with the little glass beads used in these clouds, it's impossible to show the true effect with a camera lens. There's something magical about how the sunlight gets in behind the beads and makes it look all fairy dusty and 3D. I sit there taking pictures at all angles trying to get the photo to match what I see with my eyes, but it's just not going to happen. I'm sure at some point camera technology will catch up with my artistic needs.

Actually, what I really loved most about this design isn't even the clouds, but the way the circle/sun/moon floats perfectly in the sky, hovering above the clouds, like a moment caught in time. It's happily content there, suspended in blue and allowing the viewer to pause and gaze at the whole moment without going blind. When can you do that in real life?

And who doesn't love to sit and stare and dream up stories about the clouds?

Reverie is $1000 and available now in my Etsy shop, or feel free to email me. Payment plans accepted.

Reverie, Echo, and one other piece I haven't quite finished yet are the smallest paintings I'm planning for the year so far. Just FYI.

I really do stress over crap like this.

2012-01-06T12:37:00.000-08:00

Generally each year I come up with a new "collection" of work to be released, a bunch of paintings usually relating to each other, but occasionally with random bits and pieces thrown in from work I hadn't previously finished, or ideas that I want to play around with.

I sketch everything down together in my sketchbook so I can see how it looks as a whole.

Inevitably, I take so long getting around to starting certain pieces within a collection that I've lost the inspiration for it. So then the question is, do I push forward anyway? Or change direction and follow the new burst of creativity?

There are pros and cons to both. For one thing, as I'm facing today, I've already marked the hell out of a canvas with black, permanent paint pen in a design I once thought was genius but now see as trite and boring.

I could just paint over it in white. Like it never happened.

It really screws up my ability to produce massive amounts of work though, which just happens to be one of my major goals this year. Producing massive amounts of work. If I keep changing my mind, I'll never reach the amounts I'm aiming for.

And hey, with all that black paint pen, I'm already started! I can just start painting right now!

But dammit, I'm not feeling it. If I'm not feeling it now, the risk is hating the art more as it goes on, and having to switch direction WAY down the line after it's a goopy sloppy impossible mess.

In this case, I've decided to change it. No one but me will ever know what crazy magic design lies underneath the new painting. HA! I win. At least until paint pen x-ray technology is perfected.

I'm Thinking of Giving Up Cable (and other signs the apocalypse is nigh)

2012-01-04T13:10:00.000-08:00

New column up at Art & Musings!

I'm Thinking of Giving Up Cable (and other signs the apocalypse is nigh)

"I feel the need to clarify that I am, in no way, one of those anti-TV people. In fact, the staunchly anti-TV people I know don’t seem to be anti-video-game or anti-crappy-movie, and spend equally if not significantly more time in front of the screen watching nonsense than anyone I know who “watches” TV."

Brain Stretching

2012-01-02T18:13:00.001-08:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the best advice I've ever received about art was "Don't make it good." Occasionally I have to remind myself exactly what this means. I get comfortable perfecting my same techniques and materials day in and day out, and rarely do I have time anymore to make anything craftsy, anything that wouldn't be considered part of my body of work.

It doesn't always have to be meaningful, or part of the whole. It doesn't have to have a message. It doesn't have to be good. Sometimes it's just coloring in a coloring book.

For some reason I was inspired to start the new year testing the limits of my abilities. I decided to paint, but in a way I never do, or at least haven't in over 10 years.

The two tests were as follows: One landscape done with acrylic, in 20 minutes or less, start to finish. The second was another landscape, in oil paints. I never, ever use oil paint.

I figured the time limits and difficulty using materials I'm totally unfamiliar with should put me in "the child zone," a place where I'm inexperienced, immature, and without practice.

(experiment with acrylic)

(experiment with oil)

Man, that was hard. Oils are crazy, by the way. And acrylic, used like this, might as well have been a new material for me.

Now, they're not very good, and I'm definitely not going to start a new career in this. But that's not the point. The point is, I sat myself down to make something that I knew beforehand I wouldn't be good at. I wanted all my skills removed. I wanted there to be nothing left but pushing paint around a canvas and that spark of creativity only a child has. And having a time limit adds to the panic, which requires a lot more of my brain.

I think everyone should test their minds like this every so often. For artists, working in a different medium or with different subjects might be enough to "reset" your creative brain into not relying on your skill set, which in turn floods you with creativity for the art you are passionate about.

Or, you could do something really crazy and write a book if you're a sculptor, or write a song if you're an author. Anything that requires new skills is guaranteed education. Don't make it good. That's the whole point.

I think I want to spend more time in 2012 being openminded and courageous with my art.

Lights and Art

2011-12-24T04:00:00.000-08:00

"Light is more than watts and footcandles; Light is metaphor."

One of my favorite scenes in TV history.

(For context, this scene took place during the time in Alaska when it's dark 24/7 and the lack of daylight was starting to wear people down.)

Chris-in-the-morning's art projects were always bizarrely inspiring and in retrospect I know that they influenced my own work. In fact, a few of my early installation pieces (back when I did those) were inspired by him.

Northern Exposure was a great show, it's a shame so few people my age watched it.

This scene never fails to make me happy. :)

Tidings

2011-12-23T06:00:00.000-08:00

Good news, I think we're going to live.

Colin is doing much better thanks to antibiotics, and I have finally crested as well, after days of eating raw garlic and doing lavender apple cider vinegar gargles. Yeah, it was awesome.

I get really angry when I'm sick. I feel caged in.

Now that I'm not writhing around uncomfortably in bed, I'm going to focus on some positive thoughts. It was a little scary there for a bit with Colin, and I should be grateful that we're both alive and coming through this, and hey, apparently I never got sick enough to require Western medicine. Nice!

Being sick is not the time to philosophize about life. I realized this yesterday when every outlook I had was bleak and depressing.

I always feel like I'm missing out. There are social engagements either missed or jeopardized, and I'm convinced somehow that we're going to fall so far behind in Krav Maga class that we might as well give up.

It's not the healthiest emotion I could have while trying to recover. I start listing all the things I'm not doing and then I convince myself that I won't catch up, and suddenly all my plans for the next few years become impossible because I was out sick for a week.

But enough of that. We're alive. And getting better.

1. Christmas isn't lost.
2. Our muscles had a week of renewal after three major Krav Maga sessions last week.
3. We have now seen every single episode of Fringe.
4. We got to be sick-buddies!
5. We did a lot in the last year. No wonder we needed more rest.

I'm actually really looking forward to 2012. Wow, it's almost 2012. Snap.

Blocked

2011-12-19T15:39:00.000-08:00

Colin has had a fever for two days and I've had writer's block.

I'm envious of bloggers who can just write out their lives freely, daily, and it doesn't seem to give them hiccups to talk about anything and everything from their emotional issues to breakfast recipes. I open a page and stare blankly at nothingness and panic myself further into total block. Common, I know.

And hey, I write more than most.

But I still long to be one of those people that has an ongoing and sincere dialogue about myself with others, with whomever is reading, without fretting endlessly over what I'm saying.

I started writing for Art & Musings, in part because it was (is) a great opportunity, but most importantly I knew that if I had a commitment to someone else, a whole new audience of readers, I would find it easier to rise to the task of regular communication.

Which I have.

And to be honest, it's much easier for me to write a column that isn't for myself. It's definitely something I'm enjoying thoroughly, and causes me to think harder about who I am and what I want to say at all.

Ideally, my own blog would serve as a more casual venue for my ongoing thoughts, as well as my own personal artsy stuff, and a place to show you my new work.

But I just can't seem to get there. Well, past the artsy stuff anyway.

I don't know why I would feel awkward and obsessively anxious to discuss what I eat for breakfast, but I do. Other bloggers don't seem to have this problem, and I both judge them for talking about "boring" topics and feel jealous that they have the confidence to do so.

Because the truth is, I don't find it boring, and I am interested in what they have for breakfast, because we're all people and I'm interested in who other people are, and how their minds operate, and what their daily lives are like. Obviously I'm more interested to read about people's various personal struggles, emotional issues, and life victories, but I eat breakfast too, and I'm interested in all of it.

I have this awkward habit of vacillating between being too blunt and forward with people and then pulling back entirely so that I don't risk anyone knowing too much about anything in my life. The extremes are a sign of discord, and somewhere balanced in the middle would be ideal. I'm pretty sure half the people in the world think I'm confident and together and the other half think I'm crazy.

I'd like to say that I plan on getting better at succeeding at all of this, but I'm not going to. I'm not actually sure that I will finish what I'm writing now, or feel it's worthy of sharing once I'm done. Really, I just opened the page and started blathering.

On the other hand, I guess that was the whole point.

Echo . 20x20 inches . 2011

2011-12-17T09:00:00.000-08:00

oh hey! new art!

1. natural light

2. interior light

3. interior light and blacklight combined

4. blacklight only

5. no light (glow in the dark)

This is one of those paintings that glows in a fascinating, bizarre way that I just adore. When you first turn off the lights, it's almost like your eyes have to adjust, and then the glow just gets brighter and brighter and brighter right in front of you. I came downstairs in the dark a few nights ago and it was like a beacon of light, I was impressed myself with how bright it looked. (I generally don't have time to sit in front of my artwork in the dark for hours at a time just staring at it to see what will happen, so I often am surprised with things like this by accident. It's actually awesome that way, and makes me feel like a kid at Christmas!)

It's a wonderful thing to be excited at your own art. :)

This piece is the first in what I'm casually (and affectionately) referring to as my "teal collection" because... well, a lot of it is based around the color Teal. (Or turquoise, or aqua, or however you might refer to the myriad of shades between blue and green.) My favorite color. :)

Echo is $1000, available either in my Etsy shop, or email me if you'd like to purchase it another way. :)

Personal Empowerment (and Kicking Ass)

2011-12-16T15:25:00.000-08:00

Now up at Art & Musings! Personal Empowerment (and Kicking Ass)

"It’s a lesson I could do with applying to other aspects of my life. I often shy away from taking action because I don’t feel confident enough to do so. That’s backwards. If I string enough confident actions together in a row, wouldn’t that automatically make me a confident person?"

At Art & Musings: You Can't Handle The Truth

2011-12-08T09:15:00.000-08:00

New column is up over at the Art & Musings site! ♥

"But clearly, for awhile now, I’ve been unhappy. I’ve felt unsettled and awkward, almost like I was intentionally avoiding something. And for the first few days in Kauai, I wasn’t settled either. I was thrilled to be there, of course, but I felt a little like I was phoning it in. The truth was, I was starting to panic. What if I didn’t find answers here? WHAT IF THERE WERE NO ANSWERS?! Gack."

Newest column @ Art & Musings: Renewal

2011-11-30T15:00:00.000-08:00

This week's column is now up!

Renewal (fitting, since I'm currently in Kauai............)

Back To Kauai

2011-11-25T11:33:00.000-08:00

Kauai..........

We've always felt we had unfinished business there.

We spent a little over 5 days on the island in 2005. It wasn't enough time. We've been meaning to go back ever since. We keep choosing other islands. Until now.

Timing is everything.

It was an interesting experience for us. We had just started traveling. I think we might call it an awakening of sorts. A Thin Space. It felt like such a powerful place and we had numerous moments that led us to believe our time there was somehow purposeful. Situations that caused us to glance at each other in the midst of Fit, as if to say, "Is this seriously happening?"

I don't know. Maybe I've had a lot of those experiences in my life.

We have always regarded a return visit as an answer to many of the questions we left with. Perhaps that's why we've put it off for so long. There's something there for us to learn, something we weren't quite ready to receive last time.

Maybe we'll be met with the same inspiring situations, the same conversations with strangers that seemed profoundly directed at us, but the wisdom gained since that time will help us respond with more than shock and wonder.

Maybe we're the ones who've changed.

Either way, we have intentions for this time to be a spiritual journey, of sorts. We want to listen to the island, hear what it wants to tell us. Be still with it. Quiet. Listen to the waves. Walk through the jungle. Look out at the sea. Meditate. Feel the rain on our skin.

Kauai is a place of renewal, to be sure. No matter what, we'll come back better for the experience.

See you in December.

New Traditions @ Art & Musings

2011-11-23T12:09:00.001-08:00

Head over to Art & Musings to read my regular column, posted every Wednesday:

This week, I talk about New Traditions. :)

New @ Art & Musings: Don't Make It Good

2011-11-20T10:33:00.001-08:00

Newest column is up at Art & Musings! Head over there to check it out.

"Sometimes I think we like to overcomplicate things in order to justify procrastination. As children, art was easy. No one expected us to meet any sort of arbitrary, high-minded standard of excellence. We just made things because we felt like it. We wanted to see what the colors looked like, how the materials felt on our fingers. It was purely experiential."

Don't Make It Good

Moon Balls - New Winter Ornament for 2011

2011-11-09T15:16:00.000-08:00

***SOLD OUT! Thank you!

I really enjoy making these. Sometimes I feel as though I don't get to decorate properly for the holidays, because of our endlessly busy schedule, small home, and ever-growing studio needs. I have dreams one day of elaborate decorations. One day. :)

In the meantime, I've made it a tradition to make and share ornaments with you. Last year I made yellow and orange "Solar Balls" so it seemed fitting to work with more "moon" colors this year. I would probably say they're more "mother of pearl" colored than anything else. New materials means fancier ornaments! Like pearls or opals, these really do shift in color right before your eyes.

Apparently many of my collectors simply hang theirs in a window all year. Fun! They can sparkle all day long and glow like the moon all night. For this reason, I now think of these more like small, spherical paintings that I simply release during the holiday season, rather than specifically holiday ornaments. It's up to you. :)

I have very few to go around, and have sold a bunch already before I was even able to post this. If you'd like one, head over to the Moon Ball section in my Etsy shop.

I will be out of town from Thanksgiving until December 5th, so no shipping will happen between those dates. If you'd like one before then, best to order it now. :)

New Art & Musings column: Why I Hate 'Work of Art'

2011-11-09T12:26:00.000-08:00

Why I Hate 'Work of Art' (and why I watch it)

(over at Art & Musings!)

Art Frenemies at Art & Musings

2011-11-02T12:14:00.000-07:00

Head over to Art & Musings to view the latest piece for my new column:

Art Frenemies

Big News!!

2011-10-26T12:56:00.000-07:00

I have a pretty significant announcement:

I am now a contributing writer over at artist Jessica Doyle's wonderful blog Art & Musings.

This has been in the works for a while now, but the timing finally came together and I'm absolutely thrilled to be a part of this.

My weekly column will appear each Wednesday. At the moment, my intention is to write about my journey through the art world as it pertains to emotions and relationships, discussing all of what it means to me -- The good and the bad. (There is much of both.)

Or... who knows? My contributions are open and up to me, though my goal is freely share my internal process with you. It might be raw sometimes. Actually I want it to be. I plan to show you the truth of me, whatever that is, and however it changes each moment. I can't wait to find out what I'm thinking. ;)

This is an exploration of my life, on a more personal side.

I am absolutely thrilled to be doing this.

My first piece was posted today! Please head over to Art & Musings to check it out.

It's called Loneliness - The Burden of Artists. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, over there of course. ;)

Where Do We Go From Here?

2011-10-19T11:43:00.000-07:00

Ever feel unsettled for no particular reason? It's been angsty here of late. There's no reason for it, which makes things even angstier. A twisted loop of nothing.

We're happy with each other, we're happy with the progress we've made in life, we're happy with where we seem to be headed, we're happy about all our plans, we're happy about our place in the world. Our health is the best it's ever been, as are our finances, and our prospects.

We have nothing really to be unhappy about.

I generally blame it on total lack of patience. I want results sooner. Now. I want to achieve everything quickly, and move on to achieving more things. I want it all. I don't want to wait.

Maybe I'm just not enjoying the process. This is all relative, of course, because many who know us would say that we're consistently moving forward, perhaps at lightning speed.

I think that our upbringings, filled with chaos and uncertainty, cause us to fear an otherwise steady path in life. We're not used to things going well. Long term progress is foreign. During a time when our worldviews were being shaped, we were constantly reminded that life is hard, that goals cannot be achieved, that things don't work out. We were taught to fear success, because it was an impossibility.

Fortunately we were too rebellious and stubborn to listen to such nonsense, but I often wonder if the script still plays like annoying background music in the depths of our minds.

Do we create the sense of chaos where there is none? Do we invent enemies out of success so that we have something specific to fight back against?

Bugger that.

For now, everything is going so well. In one sense, we don't want to mess that up. It's taken our entire lives to feel so happy and sure of who we are and what we're doing. In itself, that's something to be proud of, for we have achieved the very things already that we were taught were unlikely.

Yet... we want more. We keep walking forward. Our goals and ideals keep expanding. The path before us continues to grow greater, and longer. We feel as though there's some step before us that will be clear in retrospect but is too vague to act on now. We feel caught in a limbo zone of mystery and actualization.

Where do we go from here?

Ongoing Exploration

2011-10-08T12:06:00.000-07:00

I've noticed a increase in my artistic passion lately. These last couple of weeks have taken on a distinct feeling of excitement about my own work. I didn't notice the difference until it happened. I hadn't realized that I wasn't feeling this in the few months prior. I finished a piece I'd started earlier, and began a staggering 10+ new pieces. But, apparently, in retrospect, it wasn't as personally fascinating as it is now. Was my heart not in it before? Was I on auto-pilot?

Every day this week as been filled with energy, and I've awoke with intentions of nothing more or less than making paintings. Other areas in my life, like writing and vlogging, have mysteriously dropped further down my radar of importance. Whereas I normally pile on personal guilt-trips and pressure about all the things I "should" be accomplishing, all at the same time, I felt a strange, serene peace.

I took these inclinations seriously, as the ultimate purpose in my life is to create art, and I've been trying to go where the internal momentum was.

Finally, I wanted to paint. I couldn't do anything else. I barely sat down at my computer after waking up before standing up again to begin work. I wanted to utilize every hour I had, every day that I could. Each moment was important. Each color I mixed felt like a poem, a song, something that lit me on fire and reminded me who I was as a human being.

I wondered, why isn't it always like this?

Do I really have such varied artistic mood swings that I can't focus on all my creative endeavors at once? Do I put too much pressure on myself to accomplish unrealistic goals? Do I spread myself too thin?

I think I learned something. As an artist, I do have a wide variety of creative interests. None of them are more or less important than the rest, because it is the sum of all my work that represents my life. Being an artist isn't about one painting. In the whole of my life, there are different pieces of a larger puzzle that all fit together in ways that I'm constantly learning about.

I heard another artist this week mock those who use the word "exploration" in their artist statements. I don't, but I absolutely disagree with the sentiment. Maybe she isn't exploring anything. Maybe she is content to make stuff without exploring how it relates to the greater purpose in her life. Maybe she has no greater purpose.

I do. And it is an exploration for me. I'm constantly, always, learning as I go and I'm not ashamed to admit that I will contradict myself, change my methods, and define myself in new ways throughout my years depending on how I feel about what I'm doing at any given moment. The whole fucking purpose for me is the exploration itself.

In my opinion, that's what makes it art.

New Prints!

2011-10-06T17:18:00.000-07:00

New prints available. :)

Each one is available in sizes 8x10 for $25 and 11x14 for $45 in my Etsy shop.

I'm also finishing up a few new paintings. Soon, very soon!

Lots in the works. Lots going on. Hope the start of your Autumn is going splendidly.

Full Circle: What's holding you back?

2011-09-26T17:04:00.000-07:00

Why is our first inclination to believe that we can't do things?

Is it just an excuse?

"I don't know" is a copout. I read somewhere once that when you say "I don't know" what you're really saying is "I'm not willing to grow" in this situation. It's far easier to say you don't know than to have to come up with a solution.

But when does it start being too much? If you say "I don't know" more than you provide answers, isn't that indicative of a problem?

Maybe what we believe we're saying is that if we don't know the answer to something, then we aren't obligated to figure one out. Why wasn't this situation resolved? I don't know.

I think it has to do with fear and expectation. We fear being wrong, we fear what others will think or say if we provide the truth. More than that, we want to set others' expectations low enough that we couldn't possibly disappoint them. If we dare to give an answer and it ends up being wrong, or we fail to fulfill our obligation and commitment to the answer we put forth, we will be Judged.

The truth is, we're judged either way.

Personally I'd rather be judged on my effort instead of my excuses.

EXPERIMENT: Try to notice all the times in the next week that you say "I can't" or "I don't know" and ask yourself if those answers are necessary, or how you could change them to be proactive.

I'm going to do this too. (Yay group project!!) We might all find out that we know a lot more than we're admitting to ourselves.

Inspiration Through Inadequacy

2011-09-21T12:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder what my motivations are for doing art in the first place.

Sure, I'm creative. I always have been. I've always been inspired to make things. I've always gotten visions of things that I think would be interesting, or pretty, things I want to take from my imagination and make into a reality.

But why?

I've noticed a pattern in my dreams lately. The truth is, I've never really been fond of dreaming, or for that matter, sleeping. Since I was a child, it's not been the restful, happy experience it's supposed to be. I vacillate between insomnia and fitful, uncomfortable dreams almost all of the time. It has improved as I've gotten older, now that I've researched various ways to aid this situation, but it's still a problem.

The best part about my dreams lately has been the consistent guest starring role of Joey, but even his presence hasn't changed the overall theme I've come to expect. (And I suppose they can't all be like this one.)

Basically most of my dreams revolve around the feeling that I'm perpetually rejected, dismissed, forgotten, and abandoned. It starts with a feeling, and then I seem to create a dream-plot that substantiates those feelings.

Lots of fun.

My art, however, has always been an effort to create a mood of happiness for me. Peace, serenity, beauty, tranquility. Something that I could wrap myself up in and counteract all the negativity that permeated my thoughts.

I started to wonder if the artistic leanings I had from the time I was a very young child was in response to the internal struggles I feel have always been in the background of my life. Perhaps art is my way of countering those ongoing fears of inadequacies I've always had. Perhaps I am creating the very feelings I wish I had more of, pushing out the negative thoughts by simply overwhelming them with positive ones.

This week, as I looked around at the many paintings in process in my studio, I noticed a very clear theme. Everything, every single one, is painted in shades of the color I find most soothing, most tranquil, most beautiful in the world. In fact, I made a conscious decision that this new collection of artwork was going to intentionally reflect what is essentially my most "happy place" in art. The colors of serenity, at least in my world anyway.

I think I'm being purposefully meditative. I've had a weird year. There's been a lot of wonderful things in my life this year, but there's also been a fair amount of sadness and chaos. I want all my work for this new collection to reflect my ideals of peacefulness. I want to be surrounded in tranquility.

Is art a way for me to create a world I often don't feel exists internally? Is my brain seeking balance for my lifelong fears? This makes sense to me actually. I have a measure of control over my artwork, and can explore my own interests and curiosities however I may choose, without threat of rejection.

I guess on some level, I am seeking to engage people though. I want to express the things I see, the thoughts I have, to you, to the rest of the world. I want to manifest my view of life in a way that exists outside of language, culture, and bias.

I want my spirit to be seen.

Artists: Why do you create? What feelings do you have that are best expressed through your artistic medium? Do you feel your art is compensating for anything?

Full Circle: The Autumn of Art

2011-09-19T11:14:00.000-07:00

Sometimes settings goals can be practical. I'm not a big fan of lists, and I need one basic "mood" or theme to keep me centered and focused.

Having too much to do results in getting nothing done.

6 years ago when I came up with the "Autumn of Art," my intention was to change the view I had of myself from one who painted for enjoyment into a committed, professional Artist.

I didn't actually realize at the time how well that would work out.

The changing of seasons is a profound, undeniable way to mark the passage of time. (Although in California, you sometimes have to look at the calendar to know which season you're in.) Business types might think of them as "quarters," but I prefer seasons.

Autumn is a season of Harvest. Time to tally up what your year has produced thus far, and run the numbers on the remainder. Where'd the time go? There's still plenty of time to finish your list of Intentions for 2011, so long as you hunker down and make them important for these last few months.

There's something very freeing about entering the new year (even just saying '2012' is gasket-blowing) with a clean slate, and a true sense of completion. Accomplishment.

I have at least a few things that I could make my Autumn about, but I want to take a bit of time to meditate over it. What am I most interested in and committed to? Choosing something that I already have energy for is the best way to synergize my aspirations.

I also roll everything over into the subsequent seasons/years. After that first Autumn of Art, every day was about Art. It just became a theme of my life, rather than a few months. It becomes part of you. Autumn is just a good jumping off point.

What are you working on right now? What have you intended to do, to become, to master this year? Are you there yet or do you need a renewed opportunity? Who are you going to be when the next year begins?

Will you be satisfied with your effort?

Current Thoughts on Strength

2011-09-16T15:35:00.000-07:00

(Kauai, 2005)

I have an ongoing battle with fitness.

On the one hand, I've always been an obsessively healthy eater. I can remember refusing fatty foods while still in a high chair. I've never really been a huge fan of sweets. I was vegetarian for 11 years, then I wasn't, now I'm eating healthier than at any other time in my life prior, and maintain a "mostly vegan" diet.

Fitness? Not so much. I am lazy.

I've always felt like I didn't have as much energy as other people. In high school, I was perpetually envious of the energetic people around me. They too were in the homework-heavy classes, did a sport, and participated in drama club. But whereas I had difficulty even showing up to those things, and tried to do as little as possible when I did show up, they did even more. They did theater outside of school too. They did two sports. Or three sports. They ran for school office. They DID ALL THEIR HOMEWORK.

One of the things I regret most about high school is not being sportier. I had an opportunity to be a volleyball player. I think I could have been a great volleyball player. I passed it up.

Nowadays when I mention my interest in working out, or being fit, I'm inevitably met with snickering, albeit good-natured snickering, because I am naturally thin. Okay. That's fair.

I'm talking about being FIT though. There's a difference. I've never stuck with any particular activity long enough to become strong and fit. I dabble, but I don't commit.

At the moment, I'm in a wonderful space. I do yoga regularly. I do workouts that target certain muscle groups. I have run a bit in the last few months. I hike 4 miles a week, and we're about to double that, in hopes of making it farther up the Na Pali coast than we did 6 and a half years ago. I've been feeling the fittest I've ever felt in my life.

But it's not enough.

I want to be STRONG. I want to actually see muscles. I don't want to be a huge, vein-popping heavyweight champion, which many people oddly assume is my goal upon hearing that I want to "tone up." Because somehow there's no distance between wanting my abs to show and being a female Arnold Schwarzenegger.

"Okay, just don't get too fit." Huh? What's with that? What does that even mean? I say I want to be fit and strong, and I'm met with looks of concern and insinuations that I might be taking it too far. Wanting to be strong is taking it too far? I promise you, I am in no danger whatsoever of taking fitness pursuits too far. There is no chance in hell that I will become too muscle-y.

Is it really wrong for me to want to SEE my own results? Is it wrong that I, in my naturally thin state, want to improve upon that? Shocker: I want a 6 pack. Or an 8 pack. I do. Sue me. Should I be ashamed of this?

Now I'm at the point where I can almost nearly start to see the beginnings of a 6 pack. Almost. If I lean back. When the sun is right.

I feel awesome.

And I started Krav Maga classes this week. And it was awesome. And I learned something.

It's not about the muscles. It's about knowing that I can accomplish something physical. Something hard. I want to train for something. I want to be good at something. I want to feel confident in my physical body, in my strength and abilities. And I think I kind of want to be an athlete. (Relatively speaking anyway.) I really love the idea that I could know how to fight. Truly fight. Should I need to.

My plan is to be even more fit, more active, the older I get. Aging isn't scary if I continue to improve myself. I can hike much farther at 31 than I could at 25. I hope my 40 year old self puts my 30 year old self to shame. And so forth.

What could feel stronger than that?

Outshine . 8x24 inches . 2011

2011-09-13T10:25:00.000-07:00

(Left to Right: natural lighting, artificial lighting, artificial and blacklighting, blacklight alone, and glowing in darkness.)

Ingredients: acrylic, beach sand, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, varnish, water & light on canvas.

Hooray! A new painting. :)

We were part of the 1.4 million Southern California residents that experienced an extended blackout last week, which at first seemed mildly apocalyptic in the way people were frantically buying batteries and ice in the darkened store we walked around in. We bought a bottle of wine and had a romantic candle-lit dinner of mostly salad (which we figured would be the first thing to die if the power didn't come back on soon.)

Also, to escape the heat and continue the theme of romance, we took a nice moonlit walk. We thought this would involve stargazing, since all the lights for miles around were out, but that proved unlikely. The moon, not yet full, was blinding. Rarely have I experienced the moon in that way. I think the contrast between darkness and light was emphasized due to the blackout. The moon made the stars nearly impossible to see, and that was after I shielded it from my eyes with my hand. To look at the moon directly felt almost like we needed sunglasses.

It's comforting to know it gives off that much light. :)

This painting has already been claimed by one of my favorite moon-loving collectors. :)

Full Circle: Joey (6 Months Later)

2011-09-12T13:41:00.000-07:00

It's been 6 months since Joey died.

Full Circle: The One Minute Martini

2011-08-29T10:34:00.000-07:00

The One Minute Martini from Shayla Maddox on Vimeo.

(a video dedicated to Michael J. Sonntag)

[Shot with my iPhone, edited in iMovie.]

Let me explain a few things about martinis.

There is no "right" way to make one.

When I turned 21, I decided that I wanted to drink martinis occasionally; because they looked cool to hold; made me feel very retro-chic; and most importantly, gave me a go-to drink to order at a bar when I was (as yet) inexperienced with ordering things in bars.

It helped that I really, really liked green olives. I could eat a jar of them. Seriously.

But! At 21, drinking what is basically straight vodka or gin in a cool looking glass takes a bit of effort. I wasn't looking to get drunk (well, a little), I was looking to enjoy the freaking martini. Like people in black and white movies seemed to.

Martinis are an acquired taste. Just watch the face of someone who hasn't tried one before when they taste it. Abject horror.

So, like the dedicated soldier that I am, I powered through and spent the subsequent 10 years perfecting my martinis. Over the course of this time I naturally developed the complete adoration of this drink exactly as I'd hoped.

The opinions and information people put out about how to make the "right" martini vary greatly. The internet is filled with nonsense about the exact steps and ingredients one must use to make a proper martini, and anything even slightly different than this is blasphemous to the martini gods who will then banish you from ever drinking with martini drinkers ever again. Puh-lease.

It's a martini.

Fortunately, I have a friend who is a bit older than me and had already perfected his martini by the time I was 21. He happily took me under his martini wing to educate me over the course of these past 10 years. I credit all my usable martini knowledge to him. In fact, the martini glasses used in this video were a wedding gift from him.

Anyway. Back to martinis.

I use vodka. Ice cold, I keep it in the freezer when we have vodka at all. I personally think gin tastes like pine trees, but as my martini mentors have told me they are starting to prefer gin, I may have to be a little more open minded.

Use as much vermouth as you want. Some people don't like it, and use less. (which is called "dry.") Some people need more. ("wet") I use about a capful.

Shaken versus stirred actually makes no difference to me as far as flavor (now that I like the taste of them) but friction with the ice is good for softening it (and necessary when you haven't pre-chilled your vodka.)

I used to drink them "dirty" (with added olive brine) but I later decided that the brine made the drink waaayyy too salty, so now I just add olives. I've also been known to add cherry tomatoes and basil. Live it up, ya know?

The one thing I have learned over this last decade is that all the mysticism over how to make martinis is just that. Make it how you want. There is no right way. The point is to make one (or two) and get on with your life. Preferably while looking all retro-chic and holding a martini glass like the badass you are.

Wearing pearls is optional.

Fighting Disillusionment

2011-08-25T09:18:00.000-07:00

Disillusionment with everything, really. Politics, the economy, the art market, humanity's appreciation of art and artists, the community in which I live, jobs, money, savings, travel, myself, my career, my interests, my options.

There was an article published this month in the New York Times called Maybe It's Time For Plan C about independent business owners and artisans experiencing the downsides of pursuing their dreams.

To say the least, it was disheartening.

I took a bit more time off from painting than I intended to. I spent time reading, thinking, exploring new/old hobbies, pursuing interesting avenues to augment my business. During this time I began to wonder... Am I even doing the right thing? In general? In life?

Will I one day be sitting in a pile of broken canvas after some inevitable apocalypse wishing I'd spent less time thinking about my art business and more time learning to fish, to garden, to (God-forbid) sew?

Okay, maybe not. I'm not banking on inevitable apocalypses. Yet.

Ultimately, I love what I do and I do it because I'm good at it, dammit. These are my skills, and that's what I'm offering to the world, and you know what? I keep discovering that I have more skills than I thought. My definition of "artist" continues to expand, and that excites me. It involves so much more than paint. Regardless of what one might think of my art, I'm good at being an artist.

And I don't just want to be good at it, I want to be unearthly badass at it. This might take me the rest of my life, of course. Which means, counting backwards, I had better be on my way this very second.

Here's where the kicker really happens: I know that I am on my way. I know this because I'm working towards something. I know this because I'm pursuing it wholeheartedly. I get up early, I do never-ending "business things," I paint, I write, I plan, I dream, I even freaking make videos now, I work, I work, I work. All. Day. Long. Even when I take time off, I work. I'm constantly pursuing more work. I'm always trying to add more in my life, not less.

Most importantly, I know I'm on my way because I can see a distinct and measurable difference in my life over the last 10 years.

Hell, that's even true exponentially over the last 5 years.

.forward motion.

I just have to stay pointed in that direction. One foot in front of the other. Always.

I have no interest in "retirement." I am not looking for a scheme by which to get rich so that I can stop doing the very things I was born to do. I am not going to let my life pass by in a series of intentions and promises.

I've started painting again. I've almost finished a new piece. I'm about to start three more.

The fog is lifting.

Thus begins the age of video previews.

2011-08-24T16:42:00.000-07:00

People online have told me so many times that they wish they could see my art in person.

Well, this isn't *quite* the same, but... pretty close, right?

I've wanted to utilize video for years. It's finally that time.

This is just a short preview of a painting I'm almost-but-not-quite-done with. I noticed how much it sparkled in the sunlight and knew immediately that I should show you.

I love living in the future. :)

Full Circle: Repainting Art

2011-08-22T19:23:00.001-07:00

For the record, I don't repaint things very often. Sometimes I just feel like the emotions I had while painting it the first time have changed so drastically as to make the art seem "wrong" to me.

This is especially interesting given that it's important to me that each painting be reactive to all types of light, and change throughout the seasons. I guess it goes deeper than that too, as I occasionally want (need) to alter something to reflect who I am at a later time, and how I've changed.

When a painting is purchased by a collector, the piece feels done to me. I have no desire to change it at that point. Once someone else has found something in it so profound that they want to own it, to have it in their own space, it seems to me that the process by which the art came about is complete. I make my art to put out in the universe. When it has a purpose higher than myself, an importance in someone else's life, it no longer belongs to me.

This might be an example of my crazy artist brain. I'm not sure. Some artists outright destroy their own work. I do know that I value my right as an artist to do what I want with my own art. There is the possibility I will repaint something on a whim if I suddenly feel the urge to do so. In this sense, it's good to get the painting away from me, out into the world so that I no longer feel any power over it, or powerlessness to the emotional struggle it causes me.

Either way, it's all part of my internal process in life. I view it as a good thing.

Perfectionism and The Creative Gap

2011-08-18T10:32:00.000-07:00

(originally said by Ira Glass, of This American Life, and subsequently spread around the internet on blogs and through Twitter by various creative types. I can't determine who made this particular graphic.)

I'm a perfectionist, allow me to just say that upfront.

I set impossible standards for myself, ones that I couldn't be expected to achieve, and then experience the soul-crushing reality of having not achieved those things. In some ways, this ongoing ritual forwards my ability to accomplish goals and motivates me to work harder. Often, it just sets off a downward spiral of disillusionment and self-loathing.

You can imagine how this goes when I utterly fail at something. It's hard to tell what is failure and what isn't, of course, since anything short of perfection tends to be regarded as failure. There are tears. There is depression. There is the general belief that everything will come crashing down, that everything I do is a waste of time, that my goals are nothing more than a mirage in the distance, something I never quite arrive at.

Here's the thing about perfection: It's an illusion.

I have a few friends who have claimed that at some point in the vague distant future they are going to "launch" themselves and their careers after they have perfected all the kinks and nuances of who they intend to be. See, I don't actually believe this method is possible. I don't think one can burst forth into the universe fully formed, with a fully functioning website, a beautiful portfolio, a backlog of internet history, and plenty of obvious experience and high-profile contacts like the midcareer rockstars they want people to believe they are.

You have to suck first. Publicly. You have to start with crappy materials, make dumbass comments, put out bad work. I know, it's shocking, and a punch in the stomach, but that's how it has to be. I sincerely believe this. What I hear when people talk about how one day they will arrive on the scene in perfect form ready to "start" their successful careers is delusion, and the probability of it never happening at all. ProTip: You're never going to feel ready.

Successful people fail first. It's not that they're not embarrassed about the stupid things they did early on, or continue to do. It's the feeling of being uncomfortable that inspires them to do better, to improve. How do you even know what you suck at if you don't put it out there? How will you make better work if you don't have a starting point?

You have to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

I don't want to be someone who never improves because I never tried. I want to get as close to my high standards as I possibly can. I can't imagine how bad I'd feel about myself if I hadn't been willing to put less than stellar material into the world that has gotten better over the course of years, that still continues to improve as I go. I want to start new things and improve upon those as well. I want to constantly be evolving into the best that I can be.

I will never achieve anything remotely close to this without first taking risks that may or may not work, and sucking it up when they don't. If I don't have the skills to learn and adapt, how will I achieve anything? How will I survive?

It starts somewhere. If it doesn't, it has nowhere to go.

I don't want to ever reach a point in which I feel I have accomplished everything I set out to do, that I am somehow complete. There's always something to do better. There's always a way to reach higher. The satisfaction, ultimately, comes from embracing the road to get there, and simply enjoying the process, through all the pain and triumph and embarrassment.

I am the work in progress.

Full Circle: Are you a dreamer?

2011-08-15T11:33:00.000-07:00

My Ode to Waking Life.

Made with my iPhone, the Cartoonatic app, and iMovie on my MacBookPro.

Mini-trip to a Vineyard

2011-08-10T12:33:00.000-07:00

Temecula, CA. :)

Full Circle: 10 Things I Hate

2011-08-08T12:04:00.001-07:00

haha!

Happy Video Blogging Monday!!

Full Circle: Think Tank

2011-08-01T09:37:00.000-07:00

It's Video Blogging Monday!!

Putting my new computer to use. Also, you know, vlogging is the sport of the future.

'Think Tank' because that's where I've been and what I've been doing these last two weeks.

Be gentle, it's my first time.

Japan Adventures: First Day in Kyoto

2011-07-19T10:43:00.000-07:00

[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

Technically we'd arrived in Kyoto a day earlier, but that day was lost entirely to travel. Our heads were soaked in sake and karaoke music and we had vague memories of paying a cab to drive us back to our hotel the wrong way down one-way streets after midnight because the trains had been mysteriously shut down early the previous night.

Between this and the car accident I'd been in exactly one week prior in Los Angeles, I was beat. My back had finally started to hurt from days of walking and standing, and the various forms of pain medication I'd been told to flood myself with weren't working. (Kristen kindly offered to carry my backpack for me, leaving Greg to lug around two suitcases on his own. If I was too delirious to do so at the time, MANY MANY THANKS for that.)

I remember little of that day. It was a blur of trains and napping.

So, basically, our first day in Kyoto happened the following day.

Looking through the pictures, it seemed more like that day must have been 3 weeks long. I can't believe we did so much in about 15 hours. It was warmer by now, we were further south, and Sakura season was coming along. The blossoms everywhere were heavenly. We walked and walked and walked. The temples were amazing, and there seemed to be millions of them.

Around sunset, we arrived at a Hanami (flower watching) festival at a temple in Gion. It was perfect timing. The sun was streaming through the blossoms and everyone was celebrating. We grabbed a beer, sat beneath the trees and checked out the different street food stands. Evening in Kyoto is quite magical.

It was a very long, very incredible day. And our time in Kyoto was just beginning.

Synthesis . 24x36 . 2011

2011-07-14T10:22:00.000-07:00

1. natural light

2. artificial interior light

3. artificial and uv light combined

4. uv light only (blacklight)

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, varnish, water & light

I envy the room this painting will live in. Not because of the painting itself (although I think it's awesome) but because the *room* is awesome. It's a sunroom, with a fireplace and an attached deck, and giant windows that overlook a full wall of the prettiest, greenest trees I've ever seen. I can't imagine what it must be like to live there. I don't really think I'd leave that room much. Seriously, it's like my dream room.

The colors in this piece are intended to reflect that. It changes from olive and teal to orange and blue just by walking past it.

^Viewed from the left.

^Viewed from the right.

I'm very excited to see what it will become in a room that's so alive with light and movement. I've intended it to reflect and change as the sun moves across the sky each day, mirroring the outside world as Amanda and Robert enjoy life from the inside. In natural daylight the painting already leans very green, and I'm sure this will be enhanced by reflecting the color of the outside trees. At night the tones warm up to darker golds.

The painting itself was made for the sun and trees. Just as the trees change colors all year, so will the painting. The daytime should be a direct reflection of what color is outside, in the sky and all around their home.

I love working with the seasons. Adding yearly transits and seasonal cycles to interact with my art makes me feel like I am part of something so much greater. I use our very sun to paint with.

:)

The Shire . 24x36 inches . 2011

2011-07-07T03:33:00.000-07:00

1. morning (natural light)

2. noon (natural light)

3. late afternoon (natural light)

4. evening (interior artificial light)

5. Midsummer's Eve party is beginning! (interior and UV black light combined)

6. Gandalf's firework show (UV light only)

7. Time to sleep and dream (no light / glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, sand, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, glass beads, water & light on canvas

I'm showing you 3 different natural lighting pictures so you can really see how it changes when the sun moves across the sky during the day. :)

When my friend Beth texted me to ask if I'd be willing to do a painting based on the Shire, I said yes immediately, despite "landscapes" not being something I normally paint. I knew exactly what it would look like the moment I saw her text. The final painting isn't much different from the sketch I jotted down minutes after telling her I would do it.

The sky changes colors! Of course it does. It's THE SHIRE.

^Viewed from the left.

^Viewed from the right.

The stained glass windows of the hobbit hole change colors too. :) Check out picture #4 up top.

Every hobbit hole needs a fancy door.

Fireflies. They stay twinkling even after the fireworks have gone out. :)

Beth wanted a painting of her favorite place, something that inspired her and gave her a calm, peaceful mindset in which she could write. (She's a writer!) The Shire is her favorite place, I think, and I like to pretend that it exists somewhere out there. She and I both share Hawaii as a profoundly inspiring (real life) place, so I felt I knew a bit where she was coming from. I read The Hobbit while making this painting, and it influenced every step I took. As I experienced Bilbo's journey, I kept asking myself what *I* would want to return home to after such an ordeal.

Man that book is awesome. Have you read it? Of course you have. I hadn't, technically, it felt like I had, I knew the story, it had been repeated to me endlessly by Colin and our friends over the last 10 years and I knew all about the Shire, of course, that was something that always really resonated with me. But obviously The Hobbit is a whole different (smaller, cuter) beast than Lord of the Rings and I was wrong to think I knew everything I needed to know about Bilbo and him going There and Back Again and omg how many ponies had to die in the making of that story?

Anyway. Fantastic book. The only bad part about it was that it ended. Well, I guess, except for the three other (giant) books that come after it. Anyway.

Just so we're clear, this is not Bilbo's house. This is Beth's house.

Beth, I've stocked it up with ale and pies, a few cakes, some tobacco, and plenty of wood to get you through the first leg of your stay, but you'll likely need to fill it back up before you move to Vancouver. There's plenty of rooms though, you won't ever be without pies and visitors. May this painting bring the Shire to you and serve as the perfect writer's retreat no matter where you live. :)

Sacred Space . 30x40 inches . 2011

2011-07-05T12:10:00.000-07:00

1. natural light (bright, clean, direct daylight)

2. natural light (warmer sunset daylight)

3. interior light (direct artificial lights, warm toned)

4. mixed interior and uv black light

5. uv light only (with a blacklight)

6. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, candle wax, beach sand, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

Perhaps you've seen this design before. (If not, you're gonna have to search it out in my portfolio.) The original, Thin Space, was my first professionally sold painting, completed in 2006, a little over 5 years ago. I've played with the design on request a little bit here and there, though this is the first time I've recreated it on the exact same size canvas.

It's funny (to me) how people react to it. Everyone in my life seems to have a profound relationship with Thin Space, for whatever reason, probably because it was the painting I announced my career with. As an artist, my relationship with it has evolved much in the same way my techniques and inspirations have evolved. They are definitely no longer the same. It's not just that I cannot create a piece exactly as it was, although I can't. I don't even use the same materials. There's no possible way to get the paint to dry exactly as it did on a previous painting. More importantly, I wouldn't choose to. My art now is a reflection of my life now, just as it was then. Who I am, and the person I've become is reflected directly in what I create.

This painting is not in competition with Thin Space. This is who I am now. I made it to be what I see now. I reworked a few things I wanted changed, of course, but mostly it's that my exploration of the concept is fundamentally different. Today, I see Thin Space as mother-of-pearl, and almost futuristic looking. Shiny, glassy, new. I have moved beyond what I liked five years ago. They both represent different phases of me. I wouldn't expect anyone to say that I, myself, was better 5 years ago, or better now. I'm just different. (Actually, I do think I'm better today than 5 years ago, but that's another blog post.)

Either way, I think I'm going to retire this design for now. Maybe in another 5 years I'll make it again, to see how I've changed. I like using this painting as a benchmark for my progress. It seems fitting. Thin Spaces are a constant in all my paintings, though the titles may change. I paint This Spaces. That's what I do.

As viewed from the left.

As viewed from the right. See how the color changes?

Whatever your opinions are about this piece, I see it as better, because I see myself as better. It's not about the painting. It's about who I've become. I will be different in 5 years, I promise. It's a good thing.

"You cannot step into the same river twice." -Heraclitus

Watching Over . 24x30 inches . 2011

2011-06-21T10:29:00.000-07:00

1. natural light

2. artificial light

3. artificial and black light

4. blacklight only

5. darkness

When my collector Tina and I first discussed the making of this painting, she asked me to make it as Light Reactive as possible, using lots of glass and phosphorescent pigments. Done and done.

The moon shifts from violet to blue-green, depending on the time of day. The ocean waves shift from gold to white to green.

It's one of those pieces that can't be fully appreciated through the lens of a camera since it changes so distinctly as you walk past it. Two people standing on either side of the painting will think it's a different color.

I love making stuff. :)

Moon over water paintings are possibly my favorite pieces to do. It's not just that I find the concept and end result to be peaceful, but the very act of creating it and experiencing its progress puts me in a calm state of mind. (Something I often need anyway, especially when I have lots of work to do.)

Tina's father passed away a few months ago, just before I began work on this painting. Everyone called him Kick. I wrote his name underneath the moon, and I hope that this artwork will honor him and serve as a beacon of peace and serenity for Tina and her family.

Japan Adventures: Karaoke

2011-06-10T15:23:00.000-07:00

[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

You know what they say. When in Tokyo...

Also, remember that sake I mentioned 12 times? Well, funny thing about Japan. Not only can you drink openly on the street and buy massive amounts of sake in every convenience store in the city, but they sell it in juice boxes! Maybe that's what fooled us. It's just juice! Right?? We stocked up and smuggled it into our private Karaoke room. Don't tell them, you're not supposed to do that, even though everybody does that. Oh and also, you have to buy one drink per person when renting the room, so we went with Shochu, which can only be described as sake that's more like vodka. Hooray.

All good ideas. Another good idea was when we miraculously ran out of sake and Greg went on a sake mission through the streets of Tokyo to find more. WHICH HE DID.

Yup.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Okonomiyaki

2011-06-07T10:34:00.000-07:00

[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

Say that 10 times fast.

After a long day of wandering the streets of Tokyo, the four of us finally met up with Laurence and promptly demanded one thing: Sake.

Well, that and Okonomiyaki.

Colin and Laurence and been scheming this meal since we arrived. To be honest, I had no idea what they were talking about. "Kind of like an omelette," I was told. What? Eggs? You want eggs in Japan? Uh, okay, if that's your thing, I don't care. As long as we get Sake.

So, given our requests, Laurence directed us to this little place down the way that he'd been anxious to show us since the word "Okonomiyaki" had first been uttered. It was clearly a local favorite. (yay!)

I humored them and their need for eggs, because LOOK AT THAT SAKE GLASS! No, that's not water. It's life. Hot, buttery, life. In a giant glass. Ahhhhhh, sake.

Laurence ordered for us. He's handy like that. We waited. We were all anxious to discover why the boys were so excited about eggs. The place was awesome though. I kind of wanted to live there. And the smell of whatever eggy thing was being prepared was heavenly.

Anticipation...

And.... here! Wait, that doesn't look like an omelette, that looks like... pizza? Paradise? Yum?

Actually it was served a bit like pizza, everyone took their own slice, but it was, in fact, eggs. I wish you could see the way the onions were still cooking and curling before us on the hot plate. You never think to take video of food until later. Now I could finally see what all this egg madness was about.

omg yum eggs aahhhh nomnom eggs yum nom. Or something like that. I don't think we shared a lot of words. There was eating. And more eating. AND IT WAS FREAKING DELICIOUS. The absolute best egg-based thing I have ever eaten ever. EVER. Yum. Good call, boys. I stand corrected. Woo eggs.

Oh, and did I mention that sake? ::cue the angels singing::

I probably should have gotten a picture of the glass next to something for perspective, but it wasn't a traditional sake glass. Actually I think they just served it in a regular water glass. Bless them.

I hold that sake directly responsible for the events that followed.

To be continued...

Morning and Evening Series

2011-06-01T12:18:00.000-07:00

I started these many, many moons ago and had to put them aside during most of the last year due to time constraints with my Studio C Show, Japan, and Joey.

Morning Series:

(natural light, mixed uv & artificial light, blacklight, no light)

Evening Series:

(natural light, mixed uv & artificial light, blacklight, no light)

I really do enjoy making things in sets. I have a couple of sets I'm planning for the next collection, although those are intended to be quite large. These are more like mini sets. :)

They're also the last I'll be doing at this size for a long time. I have a bazillion plans and at the moment, I'm out of this size canvas with no intention to order more until I have completed a bunch of other pieces. ~~As of this blog post, one of them is already spoken for, but the Evening Set is still available. Be quick! They go fast.~~ --Now sold. :)

In other news, our house is finally getting put back together. Bizarrely, I felt as though the month and a half of life with cement floors may have been a blessing of sorts, since I was ultimately able to do four months of work in a month's period of time. I'm nearing the end of all my current commissions. Between the freedom to work over a larger (non-carpeted) space, and not having a car and therefore being trapped here with piles of furniture everywhere, I really focused in on my art, perhaps as a distraction from the chaos. Whatever the motivation, I'm going to try and keep up the pace.

I am, however, happy to have our house back again.

Happy June! I love June. It's always been my most creative month. :)

Night Sky Color Study - 2011

2011-05-26T13:20:00.000-07:00

New Color Study!!

Head over to my Etsy shop for details and purchasing options.

Actually it's my first, and only, original 5x5 inch original painting since September 2010. I don't have any more planned right now, although I am finishing up two really amazing sets of four 5x5s which will be available next week. No more individual ones for awhile, however.

I started all these many moons ago, and had a bit of time here and there in the last month to finish them up. I've been working like crazy lately. Basically I have 8 different paintings (not including those 2 sets I mentioned) in various stages of progress going right now.

I've been taking advantage of the cement floors we've been living with for a month and a half and attempting to get 4 months work done in half the time. I guess the massive irritation of having a hot water pipe burst downstairs and flood everything has been a blessing in disguise. Sort of. That's what I'm telling myself anyway.

As I'm busy with commissions for the foreseeable future, I won't have too much available in the way of Originals for a bit. Hopefully I'll be starting a new collection in a few months. In the meantime, I also have 23 prints available in my shop in two different sizes.

More Japan soon. :) There was also a mini-weekend trip to Temecula wine-country thrown in there. Hooray travel and photography. :)

Japan Adventures: 100% Parade

2011-05-13T11:30:00.000-07:00

[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

We were walking down the street one Sunday afternoon when the police stopped traffic to let a huge group of people pass and... WTF?

Someone from the group handed us a flyer that said, "100% Parade."

Oh. Well, that explains it.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Free Hugs!

2011-05-11T10:27:00.000-07:00

[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

More from Harajuku:

Sweeeet. I'd heard about the Free Hug people, but never before have I run into them. Oh, Japan. I'd hug you any day of the week!

Colin took his free hug very, very seriously.

Also, this:

Yay!

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Harajuku

2011-05-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

The famed Harajuku, where the cool kids hang out and shop. We felt so hip. Everything was colorful and crowded and crazy. No, really:

You basically have to make a decision and then jump straight in. Once you're in the middle of that crowd, there's no turning back. Keep on moving till it spits you out the other side.

Along the way we saw things like this:

And this:

And THIS:

GAHHH!!

Whew. Made it.

Because of the huge crowd and the fact that the shops were incredibly tiny, we only ventured into a few. There were women screaming about sales. People were wearing awesomely ridiculous outfits. I lost a mitten. Colin found the mitten. It was a whirlwind of an hour.

Loved it.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: THE CUTEST TOY EVER

2011-05-05T13:26:00.000-07:00

[previously on: Japan Adventures]

NEED THIS. VERY BADLY.

So while walking through Ueno, we stopped in an arcade and saw this. It didn't make a huge impact on me at the time, but later those adorable pandas crawled inside my brain and it became clear that I desperately needed one. Unfortunately, we never saw them again. I assume this is because they're some sort of theme-panda for Ueno proper. They're even solar powered!

Later in the trip, Laurence, noticing my extreme desperation, even launched a 7 story department store-wide search to locate the little guy. No luck.

IF ANYONE IN TOKYO WOULD LIKE TO SPEND THOUSANDS OF YEN TO ACQUIRE THIS PANDA OUT OF A CLAW MACHINE IN UENO FOR ME, I WOULD LOVE YOU FOREVER.

Thanks,
Shayla

UPDATE: Thanks to the help of one of my awesome and eagle-eyed collectors, I just bought the panda! Yay!

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Juxtaposition

2011-05-02T10:42:00.000-07:00

[previously on: Japan Adventures]

First we stopped through Ueno Park to enjoy the budding blossoms with the locals. Serene.

Kitties! In a tree. With fancy collars. We had no explanation for this, but everyone was taking their picture, so obviously they were kind of a big deal.

Actually, cats cause frenzied photo-taking all over Japan. Everyone was lined up snapping shots on their cell phones. No idea why. But we didn't feel too silly by joining in.

Walk a few blocks down the street and you'll find the bustling shopping district of Ueno. It's an odd feeling to leave a beautiful park and find yourself in a maze of people, restaurants, and discount t-shirt stores. But, thus is Tokyo.

Had I known beforehand that Ueno is where the cheap shopping was, maybe I would have spent more time considering. Not that I was specifically looking to do cheap shopping, but in retrospect, I might have found a thing or two. They had a bunch of silk-stitched Japanese souvenir jackets there, with images on them of dragons and tigers and pandas, but in an extreme, ridiculous sort of way. There were jackets with sushi on them, and war gods. There was one that said "Alaska: The Last Frontier." There was also a Casper and Wendy jacket with Hawaii written on it. Whaaaa...?? We joked that we should each get a travel-buddy team jacket. By the end of our trip I had decided that I needed a cheapo-ironic dragon or panda jacket to wear back home. However, when I started looking at them outside of Ueno I discovered that these jackets were neither cheap nor ironic. Souvenir jackets are apparently serious business, and cost over $300. Oh well. Next time.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: $100 Street Food

2011-04-29T12:10:00.000-07:00

[previously on: Japan Adventures]

Oops! We didn't exactly get a menu. Because of the language barrier, we just sort of pointed and nodded at what they were cooking. The tripe is Greg's fault.

Mecha oishii, though. ;) Yum!

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Asakusa

2011-04-26T12:37:00.000-07:00

[previously on: Japan Adventures]

Whew! Our first shrine. Tokyo is amazing that way. Amidst all the industrial buildings you can find serene, beautiful temples hidden almost everywhere.

The incense, located at the entrance to the temple, is for cleansing your body and spirit. Move the smoke over your affected parts for healing. (Where do I begin? I went with just a general cleansing.)

In Japan, anything written is beautiful.

Gargoyles protect the temple.

The details of each structure were pretty awesome.

On to the next! A kind woman rushed up to us and communicated that we needed to walk around the building to another location to see something amazing. I don't know if she thought we were lost, or if she was just being helpful and didn't want us to miss anything. Given how helpful everyone was in Japan, I'm going with the latter.

Inside the building that you had to enter in order to reach this garden was a museum, housing incredibly old sculptures and paintings. Photography wasn't allowed, so what we saw will remain a secret.

Cherry blossoms have begun blooming across Tokyo. This is just the beginning of the week, so whatever moments of beauty we felt privy to on this day were set to be demolished every subsequent day as the blossoms opened further all around the city. Hanami (flower watching) begins.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: The Streets

2011-04-20T10:08:00.000-07:00

[previously on: Japan Adventures]

I'm going to be taking you with me on this journey as we go. It's the only way for me to properly process it. Yes, there are a lot of pictures to work through, but mostly I need to re-experience this trip for myself in order to understand what happened. We spent the entirety of our time in Japan at a dead sprint from about 7am to 11pm (at least) every day. I have no idea how many miles we walked.

I remember thinking at the time that I needed to be fully aware as I was going. Eyes wide open. (I'm going to keep saying that.) I knew that we were experiencing too much at once to fully comprehend as we went, and I wanted to take it all in as best as I could with intention to emotionally download everything later. That's exactly what I'm doing. When I close my eyes, all I see are lanterns and powerlines. I feel like my dreams are never going to be the same. They all take place in Japan, at the same frenetic pace with which we spent our time there. My brain is processing through millions of moments and images.

Is this because I'm an artist? Was my brain recording everything for use later? Do my travel companions understand what I'm going through? Is this normal? Is my brain permanently trapped in Japan, waiting for my body to return and get it?

In the meantime, here's what happened next. We were released from the subway onto the streets, left to walk in awe at the totally alien landscape before us. This wasn't even our destination, we're still heading there! Everything in Japan was new to us. Every step was an exploration.

Honestly, it was exhausting. We didn't comprehend how much walking we were doing, and each of us experienced some level of dehydration or physical collapse at one point or another along the way. We all looked a little zombie-like by our last day. I lost five pounds despite eating nothing but beer and fattening food. We weren't getting quite enough sleep, at least I wasn't, but I didn't notice too much during the day. I was running on pure adrenaline and wonderment.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Waking Up in the City

2011-04-18T15:12:00.000-07:00

And so our adventure begins.

We'd had an entirely enjoyable 12 hour flight the day before, arriving in Tokyo in the late afternoon. I thought I'd want to knock myself out for the flight, since I can barely stand the 6 hours to Hawaii without losing my mind, but Korean Airlines provided plenty of entertainment to keep me awake. I spent much of the time catching up on a few movies that I haven't had time to see in the last year. Did I mention, personal TVs?? I think there were like 30 movies to choose from. Also, our side of the plane came equipped with the sweetest flight attendant ever, who patiently repeated the Korean words for "please" and "thank you" every time we asked. Perhaps learning Korean on the plane was a bit much to ask of ourselves while trying to remember key phrases in Japanese simultaneously. But, we were eager to be culturally participatory. It worked out either way, and by the end of the flight, we were homies.

When we arrived in Tokyo, I think we were too bleary-eyed and travel-weary to take many pictures. We struggled through leaving our hotel after checking in and asked the nice man behind the hotel counter where he recommended we eat dinner. It was a nice meal, had traditional-style on the floor, and I think it involved sushi, but to be honest, I remember very little of that night. I remember the restaurant was on the 5th floor of a building. After stocking up on pastries for the next morning, we turned in.

Astonishingly (for me, anyway), I sprang out of bed at 5:45am. As soon as my eyes were open, I knew I didn't want to miss a thing. It basically remained that way for the entirety of the trip. Eyes wide open.

These were all taken from our hotel room window. (Hotel Niwa, if anyone is interested. It was by far the best hotel we stayed in, small but swank, and I highly recommend it. Very reasonable.) It was interesting to see so many windows of residences too. Each person had different curtains, some had balcony gardens, some didn't. It felt a little like glimpsing into their lives. I was very curious to learn about the everyday lives of those in Tokyo. It fascinated me.

I thought I would dislike the city. I don't like cities. Granted, I've been to few. I don't like crowds is a better way to put it, or noise, or buildings, or hustle and bustle. At least that's what I thought. Tokyo was already beginning to change my mind and it wasn't even 7am. Who knew a sunrise reflected into the glass windows of a kojillion office buildings would look so pretty? We drank the provided Green Tea and gazed out the window for quite a while before realizing that there was a whole (truly gigantic) city out there awaiting us. I couldn't wait to get outside.

With Captain Greg taking the helm at directing us around a maze of subways and trains that looked mind-boggling from the map, we bought our tickets and embarked on our first Tokyo subway.

To be continued...

A quick sum up of Japan

2011-04-12T11:23:00.000-07:00

The trip of a lifetime? Perhaps for some. I can see how one might think that, because it was truly one of the best experiences of my entire life, and I must say, minus my wedding in Hawaii, I'm having trouble thinking of something that matches this. It was absolutely, unequivocally, entirely life-changing. Amazing is not nearly a strong enough word. However, it wasn't simply the trip of a lifetime. For us, it was the first of many. :) We don't plan to stop. This is just the beginning.

I have far too much to say, and I'm planning a gazillion in-depth blogs about our experiences, so allow me to simply mention a few key points here.

• Japan is AWESOME. Awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome. Awesome.

• There was not mass hysteria happening, and the cities were full of people. We didn't feel any earthquakes, and the only reason we knew anything was happening was from people in America informing us of it. Tokyo and Kyoto were filled with wonderful, bustling people. Cherry blossoms were perfectly in bloom. There were parties in the parks. The streets were jam-packed with people. Everyone was incredibly kind to us. I will have doubts about American news broadcasts from this day forward.

• Korean Airlines ROCKED. I'm never taking another airline ever again. Well, okay, I wish I could always take them. Personal TVs with a huge selection of new movies? Lots of music? Video games? Korean food? Free booze? Super sweet flight attendants? Yeeeeesh they were cool. I didn't even sleep on the plane because I was so happily entertained.

• I LOVED being in the city. I thought city life would be a downside to an otherwise ancient and serene place. I don't like cities, I don't like crowds, but that was before I was in Tokyo. It was incredible. I loved the power lines, the subways, the crowds, the lights, being on the street with thousands of people late at night. It blew my mind. It felt unquestionably safe. It was invigorating and I could see living there for a few months quite happily. [Hint dropped.] It was beautiful.

• People in Kyoto eat nothing but cake. No, seriously. On one day, we walked for miles and found nothing but cake shops. We asked around for sushi and people looked at us like we were crazy. Sushi? Really? Have some cake!! Just as our blood sugar was about to send us throwing ourselves into the river, we found ramen. Oh thank god, ramen. We tried asking the nice restaurant owner why there was so much cake everywhere, and she took us outside to point out all the different places we could buy some if we had such a hankering for it. Why clarify at that point? We'd been fed.

• There was way more karaoke had in one week than in the last 10 years of my life. There are pictures. Many many pictures. We rocked out. Hard. I even closed my eyes while belting out Eternal Flame. THAT'S RIGHT, SUCKERS.

• Beer in vending machines! And sake in juice boxes! And you can drink them openly and publicly on the street! At one point, we took our beer cans and walked around a zillion-story shopping mall just because we could. Oh, how I love Japan.

• Many thanks to our Tokyo-Homeboy, LT Konishi, for showing us the city the way a local would see it. He provided us with experiences that we simply would not have had any other way. The best food we've eaten in our lives, the prettiest park I've ever seen, the opportunity to meet other local Tokyoites, and see parts of the city our guidebook didn't know existed. He was also a great translator, map, and karaoke rockstar. We met him 10 years ago, but now we call him a great friend. Dude: Nothin' but love for ya. Check out his site, he's also a badass photographer. :)

• We visited every temple in the Kyoto area that we possibly had time for, and WOW. Gorgeous. The architecture in Japan is something I couldn't have imagined. At one point we biked up a huge hill toward Kiyomizu Dera (above) and passed the largest Japanese cemetery I've ever seen in my life. We stopped to take it all in. Cemeteries in Japan are breathtaking.

Alright I'm done for the moment. That was longer than I intended (I have so much to tell you about!) but my jet-lag headache is returning and in order to facilitate the massive plans we have for our future, I have lots of work to begin. Let's just say that we plan to return to Japan sooner than you might think. Between that, our continued intention to move to Hawaii eventually, and our further world travels, it's gonna be a busy decade. :)

And we're off!

2011-03-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

Again.

Seems like Hawaii 2010 was just yesterday, but now we're heading further across the Pacific with our travel-BFFs to the Land of The Rising Sun to gorge ourselves on sushi and sake and robots. Well, we don't plan on eating too many robots.

Oddly enough, the four of us have each separately had a heart-attack inducing 2011 so far, so why not top off the first quarter with the craziest international trip ever? I see no reason not to.

I'll totally get all those show pictures up when we get back. BEST. SHOW. EVER.

I wanted to do it this week, but then getting rear-ended on the freeway and having my car totaled on Monday kind of got in the way of my schedule. I'm fine, by the way. But not my car. And not my patience for talking to auto-insurance people.

But the BEST SHOW EVER and an awesome trip are plenty to keep my spirits up. I'll be posting pictures as I go on my twitter account.

P.S. Our hotel has beer vending machines. I'm just sayin.

Sayonara!

Rising (An Ode to Japan) . 40x30 inches . 2011

2011-03-25T16:49:00.000-07:00

1. natural lighting

2. artificial lighting

3. artificial and UV lighting combined

4. UV lighting only

5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic, beach sand, candle wax, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

Oh, Japan.

You've been on my mind for decades. I always knew that one day we would meet. I've admired your style, your history, your food, your people for so long now. I feel like I know you, yet I haven't actually seen you for myself. I just totally dig you. You're shiny and neat and I want to introduce myself, up close and personal.

Things were so much simpler last month.

It's heartbreaking what you're going through. It's devastating to watch. You're all over the news. People are saying some pretty intense things about you. It's difficult to weed through the hype to find the truth. Some people feel we shouldn't meet just yet. They want us to wait. We've waited my whole life, and they think we should wait longer.

Sometimes it just takes my breath away to imagine what you must be feeling right now. So few of us can really imagine. This is an unbelievably awful thing you're faced with.

I believe in you, Japan. You're ancient and wise and I trust your ability to come through. You're more capable to handle a situation such as this than anyone else.

Although I will be hundreds of miles from the affected areas, my heart is with all of you. It will be an honor to stand with your people and support those who are facing disaster right now. I hope and pray that my presence in your land shows you how much those of us in my country support you. I am not afraid.

One day this will all be a memory, and your Greatness will shine even brighter than before. You will rise up. You will conquer tragedy. You will stand as a beacon of human perseverance and strength.

I'll be seeing you next week. The cherry blossoms are coming. I bet they'll look more beautiful this year than any year before it. Though my personal sadness over the last month cannot compare to yours, I hope this time can be a renewal for us both. Let's hold hands and take one step forward together. We might just rise higher than we ever dreamed.

I love the gritty, sandy, crackly texture. This painting is deceptively colorful. In the sunlight, there's hints of blue and yellow and orange, almost shining straight through the darkness. It sparkles in the light, oh-so-subtly.

I'm proud of this painting.

Though I normally donate 10% of all money made through art to Acres of Love, I'm donating that percentage of Rising to The Red Cross, to help with the disaster in Japan, or wherever else in the world needs help and funding for disaster relief. There's certainly no shortage of countries who need the help. Sometimes it seems as though the planet is just cracking in two, doesn't it? I hope this artwork can serve as my hope and prayer for all those affected by such disasters. It would be impossible to overcome if we weren't all working together.

The final image, glowing in the darkness, is what I believe for the future of Japan. A peaceful sky, a full, rising sun. Light. Hope. Beauty. I have no doubts it will be so.

This is my final painting to be shown in my Studio C Artists Collection. The show is tomorrow night, March 26th, from 6-10pm. One night only! I truly hope you can make it. Many of these paintings have already sold, so there will not be a second opportunity to see (most of) them again.

Make a night of it. Get dinner in LA, and stop by for a bit to have a glass of wine and look at some art. There's beer too! I'd love to talk with you. It's kind of like a party. :) Here's where you should go:

Studio C Artists

6448 Santa Monica Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90038

View Larger Map

There's parking on the street, and a couple of lots nearby.

I'm really excited. It's been an interesting month! I'm looking forward to celebrating all the work I've done, seeing friends, meeting new ones, and then resting briefly before we embark on the biggest trip of our lives. Quite a time to be alive. I'm feeling grateful for every moment.

Joy . 24x30 inches . 2011

2011-03-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

1. natural lighting

2. artificial lighting

3. combined UV and artificial lighting

4. UV lighting only

5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, Joey's Love, varnish, water & light on canvas.

During the last week of Joey's life, I cleared the downstairs of everything and stopped working. Nothing, no show, no trip, was more important to me than Joey. I wanted him to have full reign of wherever he wanted to go. He spent a lot of time sleeping in the sun. He would stand in front of the screen door and seemed to be looking outside. He was quite blind by this point, so I'm not certain what he was looking at, but it was clear the sunlight appealed to him.

This particular painting was closest to the outside, and I realized he spent quite a bit of time next to it. I let him. Whatever he wanted to do. He and I would lie next to it together, talking, napping. I stroked his face while he slept, telling him how much I loved him, how beautiful he was.

I knew we were destined for each other from the first moment I saw him. I spent years wanting a dog, and months looking for the "right" puppy. I saw many, many litters of them. But the first time I laid eyes on Joey, I knew he was the one. It was fate. Magic.

He was a very special dog. He was the happiest soul I've ever known. Just being around him made you feel like life was awesome. He was thrilled to be alive, every moment of his 15 years. He seemed to look at the world and find it magnificent. You couldn't help but have his joy rub off on you.

A long time ago a friend commented that, "Every moment is the BEST moment in Joey's life." If only we could all live like that.

Our BFF and Best Man Joe, who proudly shared his name with Joey, said this: "As a breed of shepherd, Joey would often gently nudge me from one end of the apartment we shared to another, in accordance with whatever byzantine organization known only to him. Most pet owners tend to project a personality on their pets, but Joey projected his demeanor on you. I was fortunate enough to know Joey, and I cannot stress enough how much of an effect he had on everyone who knew him, even curmudgeonly "non-pet" people. His was as noble a soul as I have come across."

I told Colin, after Joey's passing, that the one thing I wanted to take with me most was the pure joy that Joey lived his life with. He was so happy, and it made me happy to experience it. I tend to be a cynical, sarcastic person myself, but Joey showed me what true happiness was like. If nothing else, I want to remember how joyful he was about everything. Everyone. I still have much to learn from him. His very spirit will change my soul from this day forward, and has since the day I met him.

I'm keeping this painting.

I'd still like for you to come see it this Saturday, though. Not just to appreciate art, but as support for me and an honor to Joey. He was, and is, my hero. If I can achieve even a fraction of the joy he had for life, my entire existence will be a success.

Adrift . 30x24 inches . 2011

2011-03-21T16:39:00.000-07:00

1. natural lighting

2. artificial lighting

3. combined UV and artificial lighting

4. UV lighting alone

5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic, beach sand, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, water & light on canvas.

Making my way through the month. It's strange to have such awesome things and such sad things happen simultaneously. It's not a month I care to repeat, but I recognize that with success comes increased activity. It's hard to schedule the sad, unforeseen circumstances in. As I get older, I'm learning to assume they'll sneak up occasionally.

I'm starting to feel an overall calm in my life, mostly because the alternative is scary. I have no choice but to surrender my anxieties and allow life to happen since I can't control all aspects of it anyway. I want to enjoy my show. I want to calmly enjoy my trip to Japan. I want to remain lucid and awake, observing and experiencing everything. I want each step to be purposeful.

I'm working on it.

Adrift will be on display at my show this coming Saturday (!) March 26th, from 6-10pm.

If you'd like to reserve this painting before the show, contact me for details. *UPDATE* This painting is now sold!

Studio C
6448 Santa Monica Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90038

View Larger Map

Very much hope you can be there. :)

Two paintings left to unveil!

Joey

2011-03-16T11:44:00.000-07:00

We said goodbye to Joey on Saturday, March 12th. He was at home, in our arms, with my forehead pressed up against his, kissing his nose and his ear, telling him how much I loved him and how important he was in my life. It was incredibly beautiful and peaceful.

I am devastated.

It was time. I've known it for awhile, and I knew it in an immediate sense a little over 2 weeks ago. I've been crying for weeks. Months, actually. I feel total despair.

We spent his last week showering him with affection, attention, and love. We home-cooked all his favorite foods. I sat with him for hours every day, just sitting. I never really left his side. I didn't leave the house for almost two weeks. We even camped downstairs and slept with him, where he was most comfortable. He took naps next to all my paintings. I talked to him endlessly about what I was feeling. I told him how fully, how deeply I adored him. I kissed him a million times.

He was very, very sleepy.

The silence is the worst part. I'd give anything to hear him softly snoring in the background. I feel sick every time I pass by an area he should be in. We haven't yet picked up his floor mats and bowls. I've been carrying his bed around the house with me. It doesn't replace him for the hugs I crave, or the feeling of my face buried in the soft fur of his neck.

Absolutely everything reminds me of him. I'm 31 now. I brought him home as a puppy when I was 16. It's been a very long time we've spent together. It feels like he has always been with me.

Joey turned 15 on January 3rd of this year. He had a long, happy life. I named him Joey because he reminded me of a baby kangaroo as a puppy. He liked to jump around. He was the most awesome dog I could ever have wanted. He learned every trick I could think of to teach him. He knew how to bring me the TV remote. He was first in his Agility class. He was an athlete. He loved playing ball. I didn't teach him to play fetch, he just knew. I also didn't have to housetrain him. Somehow, even at 8 weeks old, he just knew what to do. He never barked, unless we told him to. When we asked him if he "needed to go out," he answered with a soft bark or a sneeze-like horse neigh. If he didn't have to go out, he was silent. It was amazing. It made you forget you were dealing with a dog.

He was perfect.

I spent my childhood praying for him, wishing for him, dreaming him up, and the last 15 years enjoying him more than I ever thought possible.

To know me at all is to know how much I loved Joey. He saved me. He was my guardian angel.

We were inseparable. I don't feel ready to go on without him. I know he was waiting for me to grant permission. It was the right thing to do, and I couldn't have asked for a better situation, or a more perfect ending to Joey's life.

Ours was truly a love story.

My heart is broken.

Doorway . 36x24 inches . 2011

2011-03-10T11:39:00.000-08:00

1. natural light

2. artificial / interior light

3. artificial and uv lighting combined

4. uv lighting

5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic, beach sand, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

It's time to pass through. No matter how much I might want things to stay the same, I have to move forward. I have to take the next step. I believe events in my life have been purposeful. I don't know what's waiting for me on the other side, but it's time to find out.

The only thing I have control over are my choices. Everything else is unknown. Hopefully, one day, I can look back through this threshold and know that the rest of my life began with that one step, and feel solace that I took it. At the moment, it's a leap of faith.

Doorway will be shown on March 26th, 2011 in Hollywood for one night only. If you're interested in this piece and would like to reserve or purchase it before the show, email me. *UPDATE: This painting is now sold.*

See the full, ongoing collection for my show at Studio C here.

Singularity . 30x40 inches . 2011

2011-03-08T11:20:00.000-08:00

1. natural light

2. artificial/interior light

3. artificial and UV light

4. UV light

5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic, beach sand, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

I guess I feel awkward even commenting on this piece. I don't have anything to say that would properly capture what went into it. It was an act of meditation and study.

There's so much going on in my life right now. I feel like this moment in time is floating by at a different rate of speed than most moments. I feel trapped in the space, watching everything pass in slow motion, not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and not remembering what life was like before I got here. Such a huge, important chapter of my life is closing, and although I can't stop it, I don't want to meet it. I feel like if I refuse to acknowledge reality, it won't play out. It's an incorrect and unhelpful mindset, and I'm swimming in it. I never, ever agree when I see others dragging their heels through life refusing to make choices and meet their destiny. Everything is rushing toward an inevitability and I can't stop it and I feel like I'm going to burst or disappear.

It's strange that life can be so awesome and so sad simultaneously. I usually embrace change, but right now I'd rather certain things stayed as they were, forever. Forward motion, in this case, means the end of part of my lifestory that I don't want to let go of. I see aspects of my life approaching a sort of event-horizon, and I am afraid. I'm not sure I can handle it. I don't really have a choice.

I'm standing in front of a doorway. At the moment, it feels impossible to see through to the other side.

Singularity will be shown on March 26th, 2011 at Studio C in Los Angeles. Definitely a piece you'll want to see in person. If you're interested in purchasing this piece before the show, email me for details. *UPDATE: This painting is now sold.*

Check out the current Studio C Collection.

Paradigm Shift . 30x40 inches . 2011

2011-02-24T12:12:00.000-08:00

1. natural light

2. artificial / interior light

3. interior and uv light

4. uv light only

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: Acrylic, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

[It's hard to tell from the pictures, but the painting changes color from red/orange to blue, green, gold, and violet when the angle is right.] :)

I always find it amazing how quickly the sun sets after it initially touches the horizon. It seems to take forever to reach that point and then within minutes, disappears like it's falling off the edge of the earth. It's a special few minutes. You're almost afraid to look away, lest you blink and find the sun already gone. When it touches the horizon, the shape of the sun becomes liquid, melting the very sea or land it wants to hide behind. After just a few short moments, it's gone and everything becomes darker. Though always there, you suddenly notice the starlight.

That moment, from when the sun first meets the boundary between light and dark, and when it finally disappears, has always felt spiritual to me. Rarely do we get to experience the cyclical workings of the universe on such a profound, personal level.

Paradigm Shift is the latest painting in my Studio C Collection, to be shown on March 26th. If you'd like to purchase or reserve this painting before the show, contact me. :)

The Journey . 36x24 . 2011

2011-02-17T12:15:00.000-08:00

1. natural light

2. interior light

3. interior & UV light combined

4. UV light alone

5. No light (glowing in the darkness)

Ingredients: Acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

I started this in November. It took me that long to complete. My plan was to work on more complex designs first so that I had ample time to finish them before the show. Good call.

This piece has had a lot of different themes, even for me. It began as an observation of water droplets on glass, quickly becoming various concepts in my mind, each variation less connected to the original.

(colors change depending on the viewing angle)

I've been told that it looks like cobblestone. My husband suggested it looked like an Earthship wall. To me, it even started to resemble biological cells. In essence, it's all of these things, or none of them, depending on what you see it as yourself. I don't want to decide for you. It's not up to me.

We each see what we want, and travel a different path on our individual walks toward discovery. It's a very personal thing. Ultimately it doesn't matter what any given painting means to you, since it's about the journey with which you arrive at your unique interpretation anyway. Your life, your experiences, form the eyes with which you see the world now. The process is the beautiful part. It's not the art itself, but The Journey you took to arrive here. We're each on the path, walking at our own pace, learning as we go, discovering ourselves.

I feel like that's kind of the whole reason I make art to begin with. It's an exploration of myself.

The Journey is the latest piece in my Studio C Collection, to be shown on March 26th in Los Angeles.

Update: Painting sold! :) But, it will still be at my show, so make sure to see it!

The Makings of an Art Career

2011-02-08T12:14:00.000-08:00

I started thinking of myself as a professional artist in 2006, but I've made art since I was a toddler. There's a picture we found of me as a child, maybe 2 or 3 years old, standing on a chair so I could reach the counter, paintbrush in hand, paints before me. I didn't think of myself as an artist growing up, because I was just making use of the art supplies my mom had around and bought for herself anyway. I would get my own occasionally, whenever I asked, but that was just for my own entertainment. It wasn't Art. Or was it?

Either way, I generally had a rehearsal to get to or an audition to prepare for, so I didn't have time to think of all the art I was making outside of performance as Art.

Ironically, I remember seeing artists and their little studios and lofts in movies and thinking it was just the coolest thing ever, and I knew at some point I wanted to live in an artist's loft, with paintings stacked against the wall and supplies strewn about everywhere. I didn't specifically want to be an artist, but I definitely wanted to live in an artist's studio. Ha.

[Anyone remember Jordan from the movie Cocktail? That.]

Looking back, I realize now that I even had my first real "art studio" in 2003. It was my closet, of course, but it was the only space I had for making "real" paintings, as I called them. Stuff I was serious about.

Between 2003 and 2006, aside from painting, I arranged a couple of large scale art installations, walk-through sculptures you might even call them, but we didn't photograph the events properly or even know to think of them as art installations, because that was before we realized I was already having an art career.

I was just making stuff. I had lots of ideas. I had help and people who believed in my ideas, and a bit of funding even, and together we made some awesome and artsy experiences. It was through some of these art installations that those around me began referring to me as an artist. I was still catching up to that knowledge, and what it meant.

My painting mentor at the time, Ray Friesz, upon viewing one of these large scale installations, commented that he wished he'd known ahead of time what it was, so that he could have invited a bunch of his important Art World friends, because this was "just the kind of stuff people in New York were doing nowadays." What? Really?

He knew I was an artist. I didn't. I was, however, getting suspicious about the way everyone kept referring to my work as "Art."

At some point soon after that, I realized that I was, in fact, an artist, and more than that I wanted to pursue a career in Art. Staggering. It was a revelation for me, if not anyone else.

That was many years ago now. I've been doing this almost full time for years. With intention. With purpose. I feel liberated in it now. People ask what I do, and I boldly, proudly explain that I'm an artist. Generally people don't know what that means, and assume I paint stuff every now and then with hopes of being an Artist one day. I know this because they follow up by asking me what I "do for a living." It's perplexing for them to comprehend that Art is my career.

For me, at this point, it's just natural. The career happened because I was pursuing Art to begin with. I was always working toward this. Now I know.

In the thick of it

2011-01-19T12:50:00.000-08:00

I feel like a broken record. People have been asking us 'what we're up to lately' and we honestly only have one response:

Art show. Art show Art show Art show Art show Art show Art show Art show.

Art show.

Art. Making art. Art art art.

Oh, the art. That's where I've been. 12 hours a day, not coming up for air, not going outside for days at a time, not realizing how many days have passed. I'm sure if I planned better and started earlier, I wouldn't be so buried in work towards the end, but... That's how I work. I'll improve as I go, the more shows I have, the more I do, but for the time being, I really think this "atmosphere" is what invigorates me. I'm not inspired enough until the deadline is nearer. It's then that I can figure out how to do everything. It's only when I feel pressure that I start moving quickly.

It's probably not ideal, but that's what I feed off of. In further reading of Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit, she talks about certain characteristics being in one's creative "DNA," in that we have certain habits we tend toward naturally. I can definitely see how I'm an artist, and more than that, a painter. I'm fine spending hours and days holed up in my small home working, working, working. Just me and art. I don't notice that it's getting dark until I find myself straining to see my work. I don't need to see people, or talk to anyone, I just paint and paint and paint. And I'm fine with that. Others have asked me "how I do it" and mention that they go stir-crazy at the attempt and need to leave the house after just a few hours of work. What can I say? We have different DNA. Obviously we're not all meant to live this lifestyle. The truth is, it's easy for me. I thrive in it.

Fortunately, unlike most painters, I have a lifetime of public performance & speaking experience under my belt, so when it's time to go out and present, I'm cool with that too. I like being in front of people, I like being on stage. I'm good at it.

It's really a perfect balance for me.

Focus

2011-01-17T12:27:00.000-08:00

(And that's not even Hawaii! You win this round, California.)

I mentioned my current fitness regime in a recent post on Resolutions, but I learned something new about it over the weekend.

I began my daily routine in October, after a couple years of on-again off-again attempts at finding an exercise system that I was willing to do consistently. I've been doing yoga semi-regularly for about 4 years now, but it wasn't achieving the level of "fitness" (meaning, 6-pack) that I desired. It definitely helps with a lot of things, specifically muscle-tension and stress, and I wouldn't find any fitness regime complete without a regular yoga practice.

In October, I had an awakening about my life and how I needed to include daily fitness in it at some point, and I knew that it was only going to get harder for me. If I didn't start now and stick with it, I never would. That scared me.

So I did. I've been consistent since then. Today I started my 14th week. Whenever I have to miss a day during the week, I feel off-center and unbalanced, like something's missing. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but I felt like I had too much energy, and couldn't focus as well.

Over the weekend, I started reading Twyla Tharp's book, The Creative Habit. She discussed her morning workout routine, but likened it to a ritual that she performs each day in order to allow herself into a mental space primed for creativity. It gives her focus.

Of course. Focus. I was no longer seeking a 6-pack (not that I mind the one starting to form) but instead the mental clarity that came with putting myself through a consistent ritual, one that expelled excess energy and gave me a sense of discipline and accomplishment. I'd convinced myself, somehow, that spending those 45 minutes working out my physical body was the number one most important thing I could do each day.

What I wasn't expecting was the mental discipline that carried over into my art. I now see my tasks more clearly. I know better how to accomplish them. I feel inspired. I'm getting tons of ideas as I work. I feel more disciplined. I'm starting to handle every single thing in my life in a more productive way. That 45 minutes each morning is actually making it so I accomplish more as the day wears on. I feel like I have more time.

Fascinating.

Now I just need to learn a way to quiet my mind sufficiently so that I might feel sleepy when I go to bed and get a long, full night's rest and I'll be set. ;o)

Atemporal . 48x24 inches . 2011

2011-01-14T13:46:00.000-08:00

1. natural lighting

2. artificial (interior) lighting

3. combined uv and interior lighting

4. uv lighting only

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, sand, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

a·tem·po·ral

[ey-tem-per-uhl, ey-tem-pruhl]

–adjective

free from limitations of time.

Without time. Outside of time.

I've often made paintings that represent both old and new, existing as both ancient and futuristic in style. My interest in this is part due to a fascination with ancient technology, but also an element of imagination as to what that means. Ancient as we know it? Ancient for another time? Is it possible that "ancient technology" is entirely different than we think it to be? We really only have theories. But more than this, my "ancient/futuristic" paintings don't necessarily pertain to any timeline we've ever been a part of. I'm not sure it's representing us, per se. Maybe it's our distant future. Maybe the "ancient" I speak of is really us, as we exist right now in this moment. At some point in the future, our present is someone else's past. Maybe my imagination is simply dreaming up a timeline that doesn't exist. Maybe.

I like to think this piece was inspired by the stone-working of a temple somewhere, maybe not here, maybe not in the past. Maybe it hasn't been made yet. ;o)

This is a sister painting to Garden, but although their basis is similar, the emotional feel of Atemporal is quite the opposite of an aged, dry, weathered look. This time I went for liquid. White. Almost metallic. Definitely something that needs to be observed in person as you walk around it. Colors change, and at times it seems almost made of mother-of-pearl and abalone shell.

Isn't that neat? :)

This piece is part of my brand new collection that will be displayed at my upcoming solo show on March 26th, 2011 in Los Angeles. Visit my website for information about the show. If you'd like to reserve the painting by purchasing it before the show, contact me for details.

UPDATE: This painting is now sold. Come see it at the show before it leaves for Oregon! :)

Brand New Site

2011-01-12T11:58:00.000-08:00

New website up!!

Go. Go look. Now. It's neat.

www.shaylamaddox.com

It will allow me to update it myself, whenever I like. :) (Rather than relying on the free-time of my graphic designer husband.) I'll be adding stuff as I go.

Fun!

New painting this week too. Everything is coming together!

Today is my Grandpa's Birthday

2011-01-11T15:56:00.000-08:00

Two days before my own birthday. He would have loved being alive for 1/11/11.

I wrote a bit about him last year. He and I were great friends. :) I always knew that I didn't need a father because I had my grandfather. Balance, maybe? Who knows. He died 3 months before I met Colin.

In the morning before Colin proposed, (which I was not remotely anticipating) I awoke from a dream in which I told my Grandpa that I would be okay now, that he didn't have to worry about me anymore, and that Colin would take care of me. It was a highly emotional dream, and I woke in near hysterics over it.

Later that day, a total shock to me, Colin asked me to marry him on the very beach my Grandpa and I spent so much time together on in Cambria, CA. He'd been planning it that way for months.

It's very hard for me to believe in coincidences.

Last year, Colin drew this, and gave it to my Grandmother:

Pretty spectacular, huh? Needless to say, every member of my family was stunned.

My Grandpa was funny. He has these little signs hung up around the garage, which became his work area. None of us are willing to take them down, even 10 years later.

This has always been one of my favorites, in part because it's in his handwriting. It reads:

There once was a fellow named Rocco,

And a pigeon who wanted his taco.

Said Rocco these words,

"We don't feed the birds

For fear it might bring a whole Flocko."

:)

He also liked hot-gluing things together and spray painting everything gold. I have no explanation for this. But it makes me laugh. We haven't removed these from the garage either.

I miss him. I'm not remotely over his passing and I wish he could see all the amazing things that are happening in my life. I wish he could meet Colin, I wish he could see my art. I think he'd really like them both. :)

I choose to believe he knows anyway.

To be sketched

2011-01-06T13:40:00.000-08:00

We were going through some of our old journals and sketchbooks recently and I came across these drawings my husband made about 8-10 years ago. There were lots of sketches of me actually, some of just my eyes, which is sort of alarming to stumble upon. A page of eyes!

In the middle picture, I'm reading a manuscript a friend of ours wrote.

There are others too, ones I won't share on my blog (naked!!) that you might have seen if you were friends with us pre-2005 when we felt uninhibited and showed people drawings of me in that, um, state. (naked!!)

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Resolve

2011-01-03T15:06:00.000-08:00

I stopped believing in "New Years Resolutions" in high school. I believe in Resolutions, just not storing them up for the beginning of the year. That part doesn't make sense to me. If you want to change something, change it now. If you're putting it off for however many days, weeks, months it is until January, obviously you're not truly motivated to change. There's a difference between wanting to change, and thinking you're supposed to change.

Having said that, allow me to contradict myself. I do have a number of things I'm seeking improvement on in the near future.

• Fitness. I've been working out for 45 minutes each weekday for 12 weeks now. I'm not going to pat myself on the back until I make a full year. My purpose is to fully realize that this is how it's going to be for the rest of my life. This is base, this is the new normal. Fitness every day. Better get used to it now. I've learned that this goal is more about discipline than anything else. I certainly haven't grown to enjoy working out more. I've just been better at forcing myself to do it.

•Discipline. Going to sleep early. Getting enough sleep. Eating right. Drinking less. More exercise. Total body care. Staying within our budget. Saving more. Better work habits. Regular blogging. Setting a more comprehensive work schedule for myself. Sticking to the work schedule. Shedding the bullshit stuff I do during the day that doesn't move me forward toward my goals.

•Chutzpah. With my art. Boldness in making art, yes, but also in selling myself as an artist. This involves cultivating my own self-confidence as well as shamelessly marketing my work to everyone I can. It means ignoring the fear I feel when faced with those things. It means launching my art career into orbit. Well, maybe I've already launched, but I haven't reached orbit yet. Not by my standards, and not by a long shot.

•"Relax and Focus." That's sort of been a new mantra of mine lately. All things are improved when filtered through the "Relax and Focus" mentality. I finally managed to finish reading 7 Habits this year, and my favorite part was the concept of response-ability. The opposite of being reactionary. Pausing and considering before speaking and acting. Refusing to be controlled by my habits, old scripts, and emotions.

•Meeting new people, Making new friends. I know a number of people whom I met by chance, but ended up as the most important people in my entire life. One day you're talking to some dude in your college history class, a few months later he introduces you to your soulmate, and 4 years after that he's the best man at your wedding. For instance.

•Deepening relationships with current friends. Do you ever get the feeling that people who have known you for years still only see you as a cardboard cutout? I'm never sure who's fault that is, but for propriety's sake, I'll go with both of ours. This applies to some of my better friendships too. They can always be improved. I'm game if you are. Let's get to know each other better.

•Reading more. I'd like to read as much fiction as I do non-fiction. Brain food means creativity as well as information. I've pretty much only read non-fiction for years now. In 2009 I read Crimson Petal and The White, which my friend had been trying to get me to read since I was 23 and it was life-changing. Beautiful words, compelling story, dynamic characters. LIFE. CHANGING. (Somewhere in the distance my husband is cursing me because I haven't yet read The Hobbit, and he has read Wuthering Heights, books we recommended to each other 10 years ago.) (I really am a terrible person.)

•Letting go. Stop thinking about dumbass people and their dumbass antics. Who cares. The very thought of these people holds me back. I want room in my brain for awesome things. Every unhelpful thing I remove from my mind opens up space for something better. Or, at the very least, it turns into a zen-like Hawaiian beach scene. IN MY MIND. :) Ahhhhh peaceful clarity.

These are our official Gen Kai sake cups. :) Obviously I went with my traditional art. Light Reactive AND glows in the dark! Not that anyone but me will know this. Colin's is just awesome. In fact, the sushi chefs threatened to steal his for their own. As usual, we forgot to take pictures, so we snapped these with my phone while having Christmas Eve dinner. The management at Gen Kai gives these to certain people to decorate and bring back for regular use at the restaurant. They're displayed in the front, and now whenever we have sake there, we get to use our special sake boxes. I feel special just thinking about it. ;o)

Happy New Year!

Garden . 24x48 inches . 2010

2010-12-20T19:17:00.000-08:00

1. natural lighting

2. artificial (interior) lighting

3. combined uv and interior lighting

4. uv lighting only

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, sand, glass beads, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

An exercise in subtlety. Actually this was one of the most technically complicated paintings I've ever made. First it started with an idea. "You know what would be rad? A Japanese garden. In painting form."

Okay maybe it even sounded complicated at the time, but somehow I determined that I should do it. Even better, I actually used the technique on two paintings at the same time, the other of which I will show you soon. (That one's for my show.)

I'm an ideas person at heart. I know this because I'm often one to say, "I have an idea!" I'm talking Lucille Ball style here. I'm further used to watching a varied number of people brace themselves for hearing whatever my idea is, despite the fact that they sincerely want to support it and help me make my visions a reality. It's produced some of the most profound experiences of my life.

It's also been a lot of work. (Especially for those who have helped me. I generally work alone now, but years ago my "ideas" were implemented on grand scales for large art projects and community events that required significant amounts of money, time, team effort, and faith. I'll never tire of thanking Colin, Becky, Carla, Jyro, Chuck, Craig, and all our extra helpers during those years. It was a beautiful time.)

Anyway, back to this painting. I had no plan when I started. I had no concept about how one would even go about accomplishing this. I just drew my idea on canvas and started with what I thought "might" work. It took three and a half months of labor every single day. It was hard. At various points I thought I might have to scrap the whole thing. It's so heavy I could hardly lift it onto the wall at Gen Kai.

Gen Kai! Speaking of which, this is the newest installation and part of an ongoing series of work I'm creating for them. :)

I wanted to both recreate the look and feel of a real Japanese Dry Garden while also infusing the painting with my own personal touches that reflect my style. From far away it looks like a traditional dry garden and close up you're able to see subtle variances in color shine through the sand.

Stop by in person to see my growing collection at this incredible restaurant. Gen Kai has been around since 1983, and even suffered a fire last year that destroyed much of the restaurant. They rebuilt and are back better than ever. I'm honored to be a part of their ongoing history.

Gen Kai Japanese Restaurant

34143 Pacific Coast Hwy
Dana Point, CA 92629
(949) 240-2004‎

A moment of Zen

2010-11-22T12:31:00.000-08:00

... is something I'm seeking out more frequently lately.

It's true that I work great under pressure. I've always been that way. I may not have liked school very much, but dammit I spent a good 3 days throwing that science project together in 5th grade that came in 1st place at the school's science fair.

This wouldn't necessarily be a problem if I didn't stress out like a nutcase in the time before I decide I ought to get started working on things. I like to take my time to really feel out how risky and dangerous my procrastination is before I'm inevitably struck with the realization that if I don't get moving and keep moving from now until the end, I'll fail. Simple as that. Fear of failure can be very motivating.

I just wish I thought of these things while I still had ample time to finish, so that I could be stress-free AND successful! Alas. Maybe one day.

In the meantime, I've waited just long enough that I'll be spending the next 4 months panicking and working 12 hours a day in order to fulfill my commitments. Also those pesky holidays that I swear seem to happen every single year. Oh, and I'm basically a hospice nurse to my dog right now, which ultimately is one of the most rewarding and depressing things I've ever done in my life. I hate watching him deteriorate, but I'm eternally grateful that I'm able to be here with him and care for him until he decides that he's had enough care and wants to move on to... something else.

Anyway, before I make us all start crying first thing on a Monday afternoon, here's a peek at some new paintings I'm working on:

One is for Gen Kai Japanese Restaurant in Dana Point, and one is for my upcoming show. Both have taken far longer than I anticipated. I'm always trying out new techniques when I don't have time to practice them. Keeps things entertaining for me, I guess. :)

I've started 2 more in addition to these, both for my show. Should be an exciting few months ahead, culminating with my show, and then 5 days later, a trip to Japan.

Maybe I'll find some inner Zen there. Or maybe I'll just run around like a crazy person trying to see, eat, and explore my way through everything I can find. I mean, seriously. It's JAPAN. :oO

The Making Of an Art Show

2010-11-19T13:57:00.000-08:00

It's strange to test limits. Not everyone is willing to. People like to play it safe. People like to stick with what works, long past when it's stopped working. I don't want to be one of those people anymore.

No risk, no reward, right?

I've been inspired over the last couple of years. So many artists are finally embracing the future of art and recognizing that we shape our own careers. There isn't going to be some hierarchy of Art Kings to tell us what we should enjoy anymore. Let artists speak for themselves.

The whole point of making art is to show people. So I am. On March 26th, 2011.

This studio space, traditionally used for actors, directors, and performances, will be home to my art for one spectacular night. I love that it's a theater space, on Theater Row in Hollywood. My two greatest artistic passions, acting and painting, seem fused together in this one room.

We're doing all the work ourselves. Fortunately, we have a bit of experience doing this. I spent three years as Creative Director for a local group that put on weekly, monthly, and seasonal artistic events, including large-scale art installations and art festivals.

Yet, despite that, the plans for this show seem daunting. The amount of artwork I'm going to produce is rivaled only by the amount of legwork it's going to take to put on such an event. I know it will be a lot of work, and the entire experience will be terrific education. We're strapped in and ready to go.

As far as actually transforming a theater space into an art show, I'll keep you posted. In fact, I thought it might be fun to document the process on my blog. One of the aspects of event throwing that I distinctly remember is treating each project as a group effort. I want you to come along for the ride with me, and celebrate our success the night of the show.

[For instance, anyone know where to rent easels in Los Angeles? We're not going to be able to hang anything on the walls. So far we're looking into easels and long/low tables.]

Another way you can contribute would be to make a donation to help me cover costs of putting on this show. I promise you that every last cent will be used to produce the show itself.

I'll even send you a thank you card! :D

Or, even better, purchase one of the few Original Paintings I have left, or any of my various 8x10 or 11x14 inch metallic prints. Your support makes my ability to do art possible. I truly value all of you and your interest in my work. Even just your words of encouragement mean the world to me. I always think of my art as "our" art. I just handle the day-to-day dirty work of making each piece. The process and result is something you and I get to experience together. :)

If you're not already on it, Welcome to the Journey. Nice to have you here.

Stardom . 48x30 inches . 2010

2010-11-04T14:05:00.000-07:00

1. natural lighting

2. artificial (interior) lighting

3. combined uv and interior lighting

4. uv lighting only

5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, sand, candle wax, a little red wine, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

Ahh, purple. Thus begins my love affair with purple.

This truly looks nothing like my original sketch for it, and I'm okay with that. My sketches are usually just jumping off points, from which I create something that inevitably dives into chaos and unpredictability. I like to "guide" my paintings into whatever they're going to be, but I allow the process to play itself out. In many ways, I'm just along for the ride.

I didn't specifically intend for it to be so emotional. It just happened. I'm not quite sure if there's an emotional space in my mind trying to break free or if it's merely a happy accident. I knew it while painting though. Part of me was afraid to let you see it. I wasn't sure what you would think. I wasn't sure what I was saying with it.

Truthfully, it doesn't matter what I was thinking, because once the art is finished it's not up to me how people feel about it. I just make them. I'm working through it as I go. I try to be present and intuitive while working, but the creation itself is my expression. The rest is up to you.

What do you think this painting is about?

Some close ups:

This is the first of many pieces I'm creating for a solo show I'll be having in Hollywood, California on March 26th, 2011. I'll be giving more information about that over the next few months. I hope you can make it. It's going to be incredible. I'm very nervous and very excited.

If you're interested in acquiring this painting before or after the show, please email me and we'll discuss specifics. :) *UPDATE: This painting is now sold.*

Photo Field Trip - San Juan Capistrano

2010-10-29T14:33:00.000-07:00

Spent the afternoon in San Juan Capistrano a few weeks ago. There was a lot to that town I didn't even know existed. Like a petting zoo?! And a bunch of tiny little cafes in old converted shacks (or at least that's what they looked like.) And trains, of course. Lots of trains.

Chelsea and I wanted a little time to practice our photography. Aside from the little old lady yelling at us for trespassing, it was an awesome day.

Tip: Apparently Ruby's Diner in SJC now has a full bar on the patio and offers a Mexican food menu. It also overlooks most of the city and gives you a great view of the Mission. Although I'm not a huge Ruby's fan, I certainly didn't mind that atmosphere, and I'd love to go back one day for a Margarita and some time kicking it on the patio. :o)

Sun Splatter

2010-10-25T15:21:00.000-07:00

My husband wanted to do a little photo shoot a few weeks ago when the sunlight was still warm and bright, and fortunately I'm always a willing participant. I was wearing a hat that made pretty crazy sun splatter patterns on my skin.

Truthfully, I've been loving all this rain we've had in California lately. Normally October is a month of dryness and despair for me (I hate dryness) but this year I've enjoyed basking in the wonderful, cool humidity. My plants are happier too.

The only downside is, I can't wear my giant sun hats outside without looking a bit freakish. Oh well. Maybe everyone will think I'm being Summer for Halloween. ;o)