Stubborn Cherry Blossoms

DC is rightfully famous for our very special flowering cherry trees, “as a gift of friendship to the People of the United States from the People of Japan.” The world renowned collection bordering the Tidal Basin is packed with tourists every year in early spring. Check out the live webcam here.

And for me, it’s often the first plein aire painting session of the year. This year I was eager and organized by March 15, about the earliest we ever see them bloom. And, since I have an enthusiastic student who loves painting from the landscape, I was really ready to get out there. But the trees were not cooperating!

March 31st near the Capitol: usually warm and blooming by now

April 5: not blooming yet!!

That’s what they’re supposed to do, but for weeks the have clung to their tight little buds, shivering in the long cold spring.

But FINALLY! We achieved blossoms and the pink clouds opened up, and the people and the bees were overjoyed.

halleleuyah!

And we made art.

young artist at work

Neil’s painting

Patrise’s painting

Holding Space for Art

I LEFT THE TEACHING PROFESSION YEARS AGO. At the time it felt like failure, but I followed a path into publishing and graphics and computers in graphic design and marketing and had many wonderful experiences along the way. But it seems the passions that led me to study education in school are not diminished, but have continued to inform who I am.

I’m winding down my second art class: Drawing & Painting from Nature, and have loved everything about it. I’ve watched beginning artists take chances and gain confidence. I’ve enjoyed sharing the delight in discovery as my students find their way. I’ve experimented with the balance of planning and spontaneity, technique and intuition,  control and  freedom, theory and praxis. I’ve been richly rewarded with enthusiastic participation and generous praise.

It feels like the sun is shining. This feels as natural as swimming.

March classes forming now!

Contact me for details, or watch THIS.

See the World through your Heart

One of my fangirl friends posted a wonderful definition:

Art reveals the world as seen through our heart.

We are accustomed to seeing in a practical manner; it helps us navigate our lives safely and efficiently. Red stop sign, black on white words, the pattern of a human face — But can we see more, differently?

I challenge my drawing and painting students to awaken their visual brain, see the pattern, shape and colour in the world anew, in order to show the inspiring world of natural form. I love to watch the eye-hand-brain connection take off in a new student, I feel like I am revealing a hidden world.

We are so capable, so miraculously sensitive, with our human perception, and we are so astonishingly unique and original in our view: the same flower painted by 6 artists is a remarkably different statement. There are the obvious differences in style and skill, yes, but then there is the ocean of experience each of us brings to the creative table.

Imagine we each had our own spoken language, how challenging it would be to know anything, share with another! Fortunately we have the common language of images, but we each have our own vocabulary of symbols and shapes and ideas that influence the creations we make and share.

And the strongest of these are written in our memory and emotion, written in the heart.

Why is that little girl in love with ponies? What makes my friend dance when she wears sparkles? There’s a certain ocean green blue that takes me to the sea with my dad at age 5. You won’t have the same symbols or the same stories, but we share a good deal of common ground. The sea, the water, evokes a shared joy in those who resonate with it. My mermaid-loving singer friend and I share a love of the watery colours and the deep swirling emotion that goes with it.

Her husband, born and raised in suburban Maryland, responds to stones you might not even see in the ditch, but he finds bears and owls and whales hidden in them. He can see them before they are made; I can only see them once he’s carved them.

Open your heart today, let your heart’s voice ring in you. Cherish yourself.

And share a little HEART ART today, at your own hearth.

As Essential as Breathing

I found this article on creativity in Sunday’s Washington Post:

Art is to these locals like the air they breathe — an irrepressible part of their lives

an excerpt:

“The arts call them, which doesn’t always mean it pays them, merely that it takes them to another world. Or grants them communion in this one. ¶ “We can either be artists with a capital A, or we can make art with our lives,” says Patti Digh, author of the book “Creative Is a Verb.” “It’s so beautiful when you’re in the presence of someone who is letting go of outcome and making a strong offer to the world.” ¶ Some would-be artists had inner critics, or third-grade teachers, or father figures who told them to settle down, so they put their creativity away. ¶ The irrepressible ones, who make art like they breathe, never really can.”

I recognize the situation, for this describes me to a T. There have been several times in my life I tried to give up the foolish art and live a normal life.  I could dispense with mess, clutter, expenses, disappointment, and wasted time. After my divorce I moved to another state, and let go of all the trappings of artist’s life. I got an ordinary office job, and was determined to move ahead with a new life. Before long I met Myrna, who appointed herself my Jewish mother (“Because everybody needs one, honey!”) Myrna had a yard sale, and I went looking for a few things for my new apartment. I went home with a carload of supplies and furniture from her son’s former art studio. In a few weeks I was working on graphics for a friend, then working for a printer in pre-press.

Art came back to me. It was not going to be left behind! It’s like a positive version of “No matter where you go, there you are.”  I’ve had other tests of this theory. I worked long and hard on exhibiting in galleries and markets in the late 90s./early aughts, and quit after not seeing enough income for all that effort.

You know, it doesn’t matter. One of the most freeing things I’ve ever learned is that I can let my work be mediocre.  That way I can tolerate its existence long enough for it to grow into something I didn’t forsee. Something amazing. (or not!)

Follow your muse!

love, Patrise