This Weather - and Art

There has been a meme showing up on Facebook the last few days. It says something like this: “To all Canadians: Your weather is here. Please take it home.”

Indeed.

A friend and I were sitting on the beach having a meal of Tacos and Garlic Shrimp when he pointed out that it felt as though we were having lunch in Vancouver, BC.
Overcast, the ocean a dark gray, people wearing hoodies, and the sand still wet from a recent rain.

That made me smile and sink an extra level into my plastic chair.

YUM.

I needed this. Badly.

My heart has been spending a lot of time in the Pacific Northwest lately. Bare feet on the smooth Mexican tiles of my studio, I have been painting women from Anacortes for an upcoming art show. WOA. The Women of Anacortes. A collection of 12 women who have had an impact on the community.

Honoring them, celebrating them. So when the clouds started to shade the sun a few weeks back, I sent them a big wave of gratitude. It was such a nice support, a powerful way to help me connect with my models, with the flavor of that place I still love so much. Brushstroke after brushstroke, uncharacteristic gray sky above, Leonard Cohen singing in the background, the twelve portraits emerged and I just know that if the sun had been shining, if the AC had been on, a layer of something would not have shown up on the canvas.

Just as the hot sun and sweltering heat of the summer had been my companion in creating La Gente del Pueblo earlier this year (I know at least two portraits include a few drops of sweat mixed in the paint).

Our environment is so important and sometimes I think we forget this part.

While we cannot always count on the sky to get cloudy to match our creative needs, we can often alter our surroundings to support us. A coat of paint, a new lamp, moving a table under a window - or away from it. Music, an apron, even a choice of tea can be subtle but effective allies.

When we give ourselves the gift of taking the time to listen to our needs and make small changes, we can be surprised by how much more comfortable and inspired we become. I believe that our art reflects this.

Today, I invite you to look around your art space, your kitchen, your bedroom, your bathroom, even your car, and unapologetically ask yourself: What would make this space more delicious? Then do that, even the tiniest smallest version of that.

This week, the twelve paintings are making their way across the border and to the island, where I will meet them, ready to share them with the community on March 8th. If you are nearby, you are warmly invited to meet me there.