mask & polishing the mirror, Monotype of the Day #753

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Day 21 of Year 3

One of the challenges of making art publicly is staying true to your inner voice. Praise can sometimes be a bit of a siren song. Once an artist knows something sells or gets a good response, there is a natural and unconscious tendency to want to continue to produce work that pleases. I've been pouring over the older images in this project in preparation for my book. In the past, I often worked one theme sometimes for weeks. Today I realized that recently I have been unconsciously limiting that practice because I'm worried people might get bored. Luckily, now that I am aware of this, I can release that behavior. I want to listen completely to my inner creative flow without imposing external control. My time in the studio is always a spiritual training and I find that usually external limits come from a place of fear. So tonight's images feel very risky to me, they are different and I'm not sure if they are good, but I'm putting them out there anyway. This project shows what happens on a nightly basis, the good, the bad and the ugly- it's all a necessary part of the process. xo

Print 1: mask

Print 2: polishing the mirror (ghost of the underlayer of image 1)

whoosh and hum, Monotype of the Day #752

Day 21 of Year 3

This is another one of those images that comes back to me in different ways. These ghostly birds stir something inside with their rustling wings blowing things around. Making them, I feel it internally, the movement of ancient dust being whipped up and stacks of paper flying everywhere. A little chaos is sometimes necessary to provide a chance for new growth, new structures, and a healthier internal world.

The Second Music
By Annie Lighthart

Now I understand that there are two melodies playing,
one below the other, one easier to hear, the other

lower, steady, perhaps more faithful for being less heard
yet always present.

When all other things seem lively and real,
this one fades. Yet the notes of it

touch as gently as fingertips, as the sound
of the names laid over each child at birth.

I want to stay in that music without striving or cover.
If the truth of our lives is what it is playing,

the telling is so soft
that this mortal time, this irrevocable change,

becomes beautiful. I stop and stop again
to hear the second music.

I hear the children in the yard, a train, then birds.
All this is in it and will be gone. I set my ear to it as I would to a heart.

From Iron String https://amzn.to/2EDysOU (which I have just ordered!)
Found on http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2015/11/annie-lighthart-second-music.html
http://www.annielighthart.com/ 

looking out, Monotype of the Day #751

Day 20 of Year 3

Always, The Turning
By Dorothy Walters

Yes. I know how it is
to go with uncertain feet,
a burden which grows
heavier
with each step.

I too have felt the silence
fall through the thickening air,
dark currents to carry you
into foreboding channels.

Always, there is the turning,
light descending
into darkness,
the constant reversal
of the poles.

The other face of love.

From A Cloth of Fine Gold https://amzn.to/33jgjjW

the artist forgets the present, Monotype of the Day #746

Day 15 of Year 3

I am grateful for the way having a long term illness has prepared me for this moment of sweeping change and unrest in the world. I've written before about learning to give things up and dealing with disappointments, but it's more than that. When you are faced with a complex illness, you literally don't know from day to day how you will feel, if something major will go wrong or if it will be business as usual. Very quickly on, I learned not to think about the future. I doubt I would even be able to get out of bed if I thought about all the negative possibilities- most completely out of my control. So I get up in the morning and with whatever energy I have, I do what I can to care for myself and then squeeze the most life I can out of each day regardless of my circumstances. Some days this is easy, the sun is shining and all is well, but some days it requires active listening for the good in an otherwise trying situation. I'm applying this same muscle to the pandemic and the political state of our country. I'm doing my best not to let possible futures (which may never come to pass) steal my present moment. Looking at tonight's print, I feel the damage and weight of dwelling on what might be but how deeply that is woven into the fabric of our humanity. Those future worries may always be there but with practice, it is possible for them to maintain a respectful distance.

the artist forgets the present
#monotypeoftheday
Day 15 of year 3
(Total project days 745)

revelation, Monotype of the Day #744

Day 13 of Year 3

This picture is intentionally askew. Why do prints usually sit level on the paper? Maybe there is something pleasing in the balance it brings, but also because it's one of those conventions we never think to challenge. So much of life around us is like that. When something happens as it did to me, limiting the use of my hands, in a way it's a blessing. It forces you to think outside of the box, dive deeply into creativity, and to grow.

Annunciation, again, Monotype of the Day #743

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Day 12 of Year 3

I've been organizing print images for my book. It's striking looking at them and noticing how many are depictions of personal annunciations, moments when the veil between worlds is pulled thin and creative energy pours through. If we are present, we can be a vessel that bears it into the world. My early depictions of the Annunciation were fearsome and terrible with Mary either writhing in pain or terror. As I have grown and come to peace (mostly ) with the creative process, my representations have become calm and accepting. It always fascinates me how art can be so deeply personal and so universal and impersonal at the same time. Two opposites existing in the same place and time is always a sign that something greater is at work.

Had I Not Been Awake
By Seamus Heaney

Had I not been awake I would have missed it,
A wind that rose and whirled until the roof
Pattered with quick leaves off the sycamore

And got me up, the whole of me a-patter,
Alive and ticking like an electric fence:
Had I not been awake I would have missed it,

It came and went so unexpectedly
And almost it seemed dangerously,
Returning like an animal to the house,

A courier blast that there and then
Lapsed ordinary. But not ever
After. And not now.

From Human Chain: Poems https://amzn.to/3f0hln4
Found on http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2014/04/seamus-heaney-had-i-not-been-awake.html 

the conversation, Monotype of the Day #742

Day 11 of Year 3

Every time work starts to change, it feels risky and uncomfortable. There is so much momentum pulling you in the same direction to do the same thing. An artist needs strength and courage to pull themselves free. This is especially true because new work sometimes falls flat, it may take time to find your stride. Radical trust in the studio is essential. It is the faith that everything done in the studio, good, bad, or ugly, has meaning and purpose to your process though you may never know why. Lately I've felt in a bit of a rut with my work, it's felt too easy. But the past few night's it's felt uncomfortable. That is good, it's the sweet spot where internal change and external change happen. Staying with these uncomfortable feelings is transformational to the work and to the self. It's not easy, but it is an essential part of being an artist. If you are an artist, you have been given the strength and courage needed to transform. Believe in yourself. The river of creativity is always there flowing by. Dive in, you will be carried past the rapids to the sea.

moonlight walking, Monotype of the Day #741

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Day 10 of Year 3

More of the energy from last night processing through.

From the Zi Ye, a collection of Chinese folk songs from the 6th - 3rd century BCE.
Trans. Arthur Waley

All night I could not sleep
because of the moonlight on my bed.
I kept hearing a voice calling:
Out of Nowhere, Nothing answered "yes."

From a wonderful book, Women in Praise of the Sacred https://amzn.to/2WM5i6x 

birds, Monotype of the Day #740

Day 9 of Year 3

I miss the energy of moving my arms freely while working. My most recent pieces require more control in the making so I broke free tonight and it felt good. I also miss working on my larger-sized non-monotype pieces. Now that my studio is no longer being used for online dances classes by a certain college student I'm looking forward to spreading my wings again. Something is shifting again. So much can happen without ever leaving the house. xo

the in-between, Monotype of the Day #739

Day 8 of Year 3

There's been a lot of chaos in my house the last few months. Between a family member moving home, a puppy, planting season, and having to vacate part of my studio to make room for online dance classes my head has been spinning. But the puppy has calmed, I've gotten my studio back and I feel like I'm catching my breath again for the first time in a long time. I'm so grateful to have this daily practice to anchor me no matter what winds are scattering my life.

Waking Up
By David Allan Evans
for Jan

We wake up again to the sound
of those same birds just

outside our window. I can’t
name them, wouldn’t need to

if I could, but only guess
what they seem to be

saying over and over.
Listen: We are here,

we are here,
we are here.

Published on A Year of Being Here http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2014/04/david-allan-evans-waking-up.html