Dispatch From the Island #2" Gallery of Art

It has been a busy few days filled with hours of painting. Yesterday I painted for 8 hours straight, working in the hot sun at my pop up studio as I call it. I have spent many years painting on the island, resulting in an impressive range and quantity of my work; however, this time I am less interested in replicating successes of the past or the representation of landscapes, buildings, etc. I close my eyes and try to paint what I feel, not just what I see.

Painting on Glass

My days are fairly simple with little variation. I walk nearly 4 miles in the morning, which gets my blood circulating. I eat a small breakfast of fruit and a slice of bread, or if I buy a coffee, a sliver of cake that is complementary with the coffee. I meander a bit, read perhaps, and then make my way to the terrace overlooking the sea where the pop up studio is located. There is no real urgency and I move at whatever pace I feel like. The studio consists of an old blanket, which I spend out my pastels and oil bars across. The blanket is folded over the supplies at the end of my work day. I use rocks to keep everything in place so when the wind gusts it is not blown over the fence to the hillside. I contort my body as I paint on the ground, in my bathing suit most days, and listen to music with headphones on. This has been my routine for 24 years now, and resembles the longstanding one that began at China Camp in 1989. Being a few steps away from my room I can take a short break for water or a bite to eat, or use the bathroom. I watch clouds drift by. I reach my arms to the sky and feel every fiber of my being. While others are at the beach I am working the afternoon away. Around 3 o clock, my friend and host Dimitri fetches me for our daily swim. I might have dinner with friends, a glass of wine and listen to live music; however, everyday is much like the one before, which suits me fine. I could not be happier.

Red Door to My "Home" 

Yesterday my friend Sara sent over four old windows she asked me to paint. I painted for 4 hours and managed to complete them. People think I work fast; however, that is because they are not calculating prep time, which is extensive. In fact it took me years to get here and into a zone that allows me to paint intensely with little to distract me. This is why artist residencies exist, and although I have never applied for one, I see the value and have created my own in locations far removed from the demands of daily life.

I had a weird sensation today after I finished painting. My house in Maine started to feel like my house in Austin that I sold when I moved 3 years ago. The house in California, while still with my name on the deed, is not really mine because I do not live there anymore. Do I live anywhere? On the island my room is sparse and simple with a bed, bath and a refrigerator and kitchen sink. The idea I have a house in Portland is real, yet not real at the same time. I look on Facebook at my neighbors' posts and see my tree lined street and 1930s Colonial houses. It all looks familiar; however, I do not feel like I live there, or anywhere. I try to imagine turning on my lovely dead end street, waving to neighbors as I drive by, opening my door and being greeted by my dogs. It is hard to conjure up when home is so elusive. I saw a pregnant woman today and tried to imagine what it was like to be pregnant but I felt so far removed from the experience I was unable. The displacement of moving to CA with my dogs for the summer while I rent the house on Air B N B set my disconnect in motion, then coming to the island made it even more so.

My Portland Home

I have a floating feeling. I wrote in my last blog about seeing my younger self floating too. Perhaps it is because I have detached from the props and people that define and direct my life. We can transition with difficulty or ease depending on the circumstances, and in the case of being on the island, it happens quickly and with no resistance. My feet may be planted on the ground but my spirit is elevated. I breathe colors, roll around in colors and dream colors.

My pop up studio

Below is a sampling of work from the first days. I am in my zone and feeling happy, focused on the process, not the outcome. I painted for 4 hours on Sara's windows with the same passion, intention and depth as I do the work I will take home. All that is important is to do the work, which can sometimes be difficult when you are concerned about showing, selling and approval. When I loose my way, or become overly concerned about outcomes or compare myself to others,  I remind myself my art only has to matter to me, not the world, it is my joy and where I find purpose. That is the best and only place to reside in this work.