Art

A LITTLE WRINKLE

I don’t remember what led me to River’s Edge Gallery that night, but there I was standing before three brightly lit floors packed with people excited about art. I turned to my friend, “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore!”

It was “The Homage Show”, and my first opening reception at an art gallery.

It was also the night I met Patt Slack, the gallery’s owner.

And the night that I began my personal journey of self-discovery through art and photography. I didn’t even realize I was in need of or in search of anything, although, as Patt peered over the rim of her glasses and smiled at me, I suspect that she did.

The next day, I created my first little painting in homage to the show and humbly gifted it to her.july 4 my homage

She accepted it graciously and appreciatively . . . and without laughing out loud.

Since then, I’ve blogged about Wyandotte’s galleries and their incredible artists, but I never considered myself one of them. Now here it is just a few years later, and instead of writing about this show, I have two photographs entered in it.

I have come full circle.

Today I am thinking about Patt Slack and that first night of art, and I’m in awe of the magical new world she opened up to me. And I’m remembering something she said seriously and adamantly that I thought a bit odd at the time; about the difference between being “creative” and being “an artist”; the distinction being that the former creates and enjoys, while the latter does the incredible grueling work of art. I understand now, Patt. I just want you to know. I sure do.

Last week I celebrated a friend’s show by wearing my shiny red patent-leather shoes for the first time; the ones that I purchased shortly after that night, and keep on my dresser as I reminder of my inner girly-girl, and I immediately learned two things: although I love these dreamy red shoes, they are NOT conducive to comfortable walking or to good photography.

The kicker?

Tonight I will attend MY first-ever Photography show still limping from their wear, as I stand before my entry . . . where I, um . . . kind of . . . honor them.

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME-001

You just gotta love ironing.

I mean irony!

You just gotta love irony!

Haha.

Categories: Art, Downriver/Detroit, Michigan | Tags: , , , , | 17 Comments

ROSIE’S GIRLS

Just a week ago we gathered to celebrate Rose Lewandowski’s art show at The Carr Center in Detroit (See the Carr at: http://www.thecarrcenter.org/ and visit Rosie on Facebook).

We love Rosie and her beautiful brilliant brain. She’s a painter and photographer, and she creates the most elegant pottery. Tonight it’s her pottery that’s being featured and I love to see the world through her eyes, as reflected in her pieces. She has incredible perspective. And depth of heart.

aaROSIE QUOTE

Actually, both of the other girls are creatives as well; Desiree’s a painter, gardener, and creator of fairy gardens and anything else her beautiful brain can imagine; and Patti is a photographer, chef extraordinaire, and probably a few other things that I’m not remembering right now. Me? I write a bit. And I take a few photographs now and then.

Rosie’s show was fabulous. The attendance was good and the room was abuzz with creative energy and the chatter and support of friends. Our Motley Crew was there to celebrate our friend, who passionately and relentlessly does the work of art; this night was just one result and reward. She has the heart of an artist, the soul of an ancient, and the work ethic of a Fortune 500 CEO. Needless to say, her pottery pieces just blew everyone away. I wasn’t surprised. Of course they did.

ROSIE TABLE

We even made some new friends.

aROSIE DANA FUNNY

Say hello to Dana and Dom (Rosie is on the right). They are delightful spirited characters and we all bonded rather naturally (you learn to spot the good ones quickly!).They are soon expecting a beautiful baby boy named, Alexio. Isn’t that a wonderful name? I’ve already called dibs on his first photo shoot!

 

In the afterglow of the evening, we left Detroit, and each ventured ahead into the upcoming week.

NIGHT

I know that Desiree has been nonstop busy with family duties and activities, and assisting in the care of an ailing loved one, while babysitting her granddaughter (the light of her life), and while being in physical pain. She’s had an incredibly rough year of family losses, but you’d never know it to look at her. Or be with her. She always sees the beauty in everything. And she’s a firecracker. She’s also a fluttering little firefly flapping her wings and being beautiful while trying to shed some light in all the darkness that surrounds her.

I also know that Patti has had the same kind of busyness, even though it was her week of vacation; errands and family duties never stop. She just got her second tattoo; a bracelet of flowers, inspired by her late mother’s ring. Her first tattoo, in honor of her infant daughter, Sara, was an angel with wings, and now rests just above her heart . . . the same heart that broke the day she lost her. Patti’s the calming force in our little rock band of middle-aged, Zen-seeking, hippie-embracing, creative girlfriends. She brings balance (That’s why she carries a cane! She’s also highly skilled in navigation…and sarcastic humor).

Rosie did not escape unscathed. She had a minute of joy at her show and then the next day, she got clobbered . . . really hard. She lost her beautiful friend, Marty; someone she’s loved for a lifetime. And it broke her heart. There are no words. Only tears. Later, the memories will come that will comfort her. She will honor Marty by living life with love and joy in her heart.

Me?

Nothing too major. I got crushed by bronchitis, which spurred a three-day migraine, while a number of important things were happening. It was crazy-bad timing and I cried a lot, but I pushed through it. Even the smallest tasks required tremendous effort and attention, with relatively few positive results. It’s frustrating; and that’s a word my bipolar disorder doesn’t like. We don’t care much for emotional roller coasters either, but we’ve been privy to a ride on one of those this week as well. Yeah . . . I’m tired.

(I keep writing this paragraph over because I need want to tell you all of the bad things that happened to me. I want to name them off, “This and this and this and this…..”, and then say, “See how rough my week was?” But I will resist that urge.

(You’re welcome).

So, exactly what is this blog about?

Embracing moments.

And honoring our beautiful friends.

Just as they are.

Not because we accept them or tolerate them.

But because we love them.

And we want to celebrate them.

Life’s gifts come with no guarantees. One minute you’re enjoying the night with your friends and the next minute you’re up to your eyeballs in turmoil and pain and everything’s different. Sometimes, it’s major and life-altering. And sometimes we just go through a rough patch . . . for maybe a day, or a few months, or even a few years. But not one of us will get through it without a little help.

Nope, not even you.

We need someone to listen and to share it all with. We need a couple of good friends. The love and laughter they bring is as vital to our existence as the air we breathe.

This beautiful band of girlfriends I jokingly call backup singers and Zen-hippie girls, and indeed we are; but you can be assured, we are also warriors. And we’re fighting for love, comfort, peace, and a little bit of the happy stuff.

aGIRLScropped

(From left: Rose Lewandowski, Desiree Mate, Julia Kovach, Pat Petroline).

Tomorrow, come hell or high water, we will reassemble for a girls-therapy session luncheon, where we will hug and chat and laugh and love for hours.

And we’ll embrace these moments as tightly as we embrace each other.

Because that’s just how we roll.

And because this is the important stuff.

The stuff to cherish.

It’s a rare find.

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This blog is dedicated to Rosie’s dear friend, Marty Gratz, who left this earth much too soon, and who will be greatly missed by all who had the honor and privilege of knowing and loving her.

ROSIE'S MARTY

Categories: Art, Friends | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

FROM PUMPKINS TO PYTHONS

I think I’m turning into a bit of a Blog Attention Whore.

Good grief. I wonder if there is a support group for that.

In my quest to keep things interesting and fun, and in an effort to lighten up and step outside of my comfort zone, I’m finding myself doing some pretty unusual things.

Since I use my own pics in my blogs, I now carry a camera everywhere I go. Everything I see is a potential photograph, and every photograph, a story.

Much to my chagrin, and the chagrin of others, I’m discovering that there is nothing I won’t do for the sake of the blog. Well, almost nothing.

One night while partying with girlfriends, one of them said, “We’d better cool down or we’re going to end up in jail!”

My response? “Oh, that would be a great blog!”

Sheesh. I seriously may need help.

On Halloween, a holiday that I’ve never enjoyed, I made an attempt to funny-up and embrace the day. While driving about with my good friend, Patti Petroline, we passed a side-of-the-road pumpkin patch.

“We should buy a pumpkin, carve it out, put it on my head, and then snap some pics for my blog!” I screamed, as I pulled the car over and turned it around.

Patti, the forever spontaneous and always-game adventurer, and my self-appointed personal Smart Phone Photographer, was up for the challenge. What resulted was, “A Halloween Dream”, http://wp.me/p2ckKM-jM.

Who would have guessed that this crabby, claustrophobic, hot-flashing, quirky old beotch would end up doing this?

CARTOON OH MY HEAD

We had a blast and laughed for hours. It was truly one of my finest moments.

That brings us to this past Friday night at River’s Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, for the opening reception of “Pure Genius”.

And it was.

Pure genius, that is.

That “River’s Edge Gallery Gang” just makes me all crazy. Crazy excited. And crazy inspired. But be warned, you’ve gotta watch these folks, because before you know it, you will be seeing, feeling, and experiencing all sorts of unexpected things. You’ll find yourself crying over things you don’t understand, falling in love with things that you can’t explain, and dreaming of things you can’t imagine.

Sometimes you might even see yourself up on the wall . . .  being displayed through someone else’s eyes . . . in their art.

It blows me away.

This show was outstanding. But it was different from others I’ve attended. Actually, there was one REALLY BIG difference.

And her name was Cinderella.

9SNAKEclose

She is a beautiful Albino Burmese Python snake that is NINE FEET LONG and WEIGHS 45 POUNDS. She and her owner were given permission to attend the show, as an opportunity to educate those attendees who were willing to walk over to her table and meet her.

Not me. No sir. No thanks.

I’m not a snake person.

Are you kidding me?

I SCREAM AT THE SIGHT OF HER FOOD!

When I found a mouse in my apartment, I called the Landlord, hysterical and from high atop a dining room chair. And afterwards, I sat in the same chair sweating, panting, and sobbing over my plight of husband-less-ness and my involuntary independence. I experienced it again when I discovered a large colony of gianormous slugs on my patio. And yes, I know they like beer. I supplied their slimy nasty-looking asses with a can of Budweiser one night. Sure, they drank it. And then they sludged away back home . . . all slow and buzzed up, while leaving a trail of ik.

But I digress.

So, there we stood, in awe, at Cinderella’s table. Patti stood much closer to it than I did. She’s the calm one. I am not. I would be the sweating, hyperventilating, twitching one.

At heart, I am an animal rights advocate. I don’t agree with wild animals being kept as pets or being hauled around from place to place for display, but honestly, I didn’t consider any of that.

She was beautiful. And I was mystified, captivated, and horrified, all at the same time. Her owner seemed to adore her and has been in the business of educating people with reptiles for many years. And I kind of agree with that.

So, in the spirit of stepping out of my comfort zone and pushing my limits, and being the Blog Attention Whore that I suspect myself to be, I said, “I should hold her and snap a picture for my blog!”

So I did.

I didn’t anticipate her weight or the feeling of her incredibly strong solid mass of muscle wrapped around my upper body.

1crazylook

It . . . freaked . . . me . . . out.

*

I don’t think I was even breathing.

2ADJUSTG IT

*

In this photo, I was smiling through gritted teeth and begging Patti, “Did you get the pic? Did you get the pic?

3funny mouth

*

As soon as she said yes, I panicked inside and had to get the snake off of me . . . like, right now.

4REMOVING

*

It looks like I’m pretty upset, but I was just in a hurry.

6leaving

As soon as I got away from her, my adrenaline soared, my heart pounded, my knees began to shake, and my hands visibly trembled. I kept saying, “I did it! I did it!”

And I must have looked every bit a wreck, because the owner kept saying, “You did great! You did great!”

He knew how frightened I was as I approached their table. Later he told me that I was really brave. He said doing something risky isn’t brave unless you’re afraid. I agreed.

Much later, Patti and I determined that the series of photographs was taken in approximately 20 SECONDS. That’s how long I lasted. 20 SECONDS.

Several hours and a half a Xanax later, we were looking at a couple of pretty amazing photographs that I deem frame-worthy.

Because I did it . . .

7CLOSEprintthis

. . . even though I was afraid.

*

And it was a good thing.

8MEHOLDINGUPCLOSEPRFCTprint

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SIDE NOTE: The next day I Googled our little Cinderella, and read this, “The Albino Burmese Python are readily available but grow up to be huge snakes. This is one of the snakes that needs a healthy dose of caution, so think twice (or more) before getting one as a pet. Although Burmese Pythons are generally quite docile, they are incredibly strong, and it just takes a single mistake in handling them, to have disastrous results.”

**********

Nice.

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Categories: Animals, Art, Downriver/Detroit, Michigan, Humor, Inspiration/Motivation | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 55 Comments

NEW YORK CITY **IS** ART!

I just returned from my first visit to New York City. It was wonderful and brief and I fell in love and somehow, I managed to miss out on every single art gallery and museum. Sheesh.

Why, you ask me? What happened?

I will now confirm the airheaded-ness that most of you have always suspected I possess, by telling you the truth. I forgot. I forgot all about the museums I have waited most of my life to see, because she seduced me.

New York City seduced me. And I loved every single crazy, magical moment of it.

How did she do it? With lights and colors and flashing billboards and music and vibrant electric people-energy! Here, let me give you a small glimpse.

I thought my seizures would have kicked in with all these colorful, flashing lights, but they didn’t. I only had one seizure, and that was during a performance of the Lion King. I hardly noticed though; I was having a panic attack because I was stuck in the middle of a row, and with all my sweating and deep breathing, it came and went unnoticed by anyone but me. What a case.

But a show unlike anything I have ever seen! The sets, costumes, music, and performances were off the charts! It transformed me to Africa!

And the biggest surprise? The City of New York herself is the most unique and stunning display of art I have ever seen!

I forgot all about galleries and museums because everywhere I looked I saw amazing things.

It started with the view from my room.

And the people on the streets. AS art. And making music.

 

 

NYC is the fashion capital of the world because even her buildings are the best dressed anywhere!

 

 

Even Mother Nature gets in on the act.

 

Sometimes her buildings are clad only in red, white, and blue.

 

 

Rockefeller Center.

 

I never imagined buildings as being beautiful. Until now. These unadorned and magnificent buildings decorate the skies.

 

 

 

Reflections of buildings.

Reflections of a child. (Do you see me?)

I even made a few creative new friends!

(Yikes! It looks as if I’m being groped! Lol).

But NYC is not limited to artful people and buildings. No, there are also plenty of wonderful sculptures!

 

 

 

 

And the message is everywhere.

We must not forget to . . .

Checkout time is 12:00 noon.

Gosh, I love this city. Until next time, New York . . .

Categories: Adventures, Art, Love, Patriotic/Political, Photography | Tags: , , , , , , | 30 Comments

ART HEALS

I don’t know a thing about art. All I know is how it makes me feel. But I haven’t let that stop me from exploring this aw-inspiring means of expression. No way. In the last few years I have been attending art shows and gallery receptions, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that art is always about so much more than art.

Regardless of the name of the exhibit, the theme of the show, or even the title of a painting, creative expression far exceeds any label we may attach to it.

Art is all about life.

And boy did I learn that this past week. I hardly know where to begin, so I’ll start at the start.

Meet Patricia Izzo, award-winning Fine Arts Photographer and painter.

Patricia’s a pretty heavy hitter in the art world. Her fine art photography has been featured in numerous national publications like American Photo Magazine, Home Décor, and Woman’s Day, just to name a few. And her images can be seen in the 2010 Harold and Kumar III movie. She’s had extensive exhibits throughout the Detroit Metropolitan area, the East Coast, and Traverse City Museums, and she published a fine art photography book called, “FRAGILE AWAKENINGS” in 2008. She’s a board member or is active in, just about anything that promotes the arts. She creates it, teaches it, promotes it, changes it, advances it, and shares it with children. And she is the artist-in-residence at River’s Edge Gallery, right here in Wyandotte, Michigan.

I see her as a compassionate woman, a creative genius, and a . . . well, a sort of spiritual guide.

I run into Patricia at the DOWNRIVER COUNCIL FOR THE ARTS (DCA), in Wyandotte, and she tells me about her involvement in an upcoming art show there, called, “ART HEALS”.

She mentions something about some art classes, some kids, and the Josephine Ford Cancer Center, and I eagerly agree to meet her there the following week.

I think I’m just going to watch a couple of art classes and, then at the end of the week, go to an art show. But Patricia is a little bit sneaky . . . she is going to take me on a life changing journey instead. I just don’t know it yet.

As I drive to meet her the following Tuesday, I am flooded in memories of my small encounter with cervical cancer over 20 years ago, my subsequent surgery and cure, and the fear that I still feel all these years later when going for a pap test. I think of my sister who passed away six years ago from lung cancer, of my friend who lost her breasts, and my other dear friend who lost her mom. I think of my childhood friend who is currently undergoing chemotherapy right here at this facility, and how I’ve never visited her during her treatment. Sheesh. How did I not think of all of this earlier? I blink back the tears and swallow hard to get the lump in my throat . . . down.

I arrive at my first visit to the Josephine Ford Cancer Center to observe the Children’s Support Group as they gather to make paintings for the upcoming art show.

My photographs are limited to the art and the creative process, so I hope you enjoy them! And hospital gowns are worn as smocks so the acrylic paints won’t stain clothes.

The room isn’t gloomy and dark with talk of pain or cancer. The kids lighten me and I am blown away by their incredible wisdom and insight, and their uncanny ability to remain silly and playful. I take their full impact head-on and heart-full.

Hands this small should never need to know the word cancer.

 

Below is a photo of each child’s artwork both in progress, and as displayed at the “ART HEALS” exhibition. I will let the art speak for itself.

  

Painting: “STRENGTH”, by artist Alex Rupp.

 

  

Painting: “FLOWER CHILD”, by artist Amanda Rupp.

 

  

Painting: “ME”, by artist Chad Donahue.

  

Painting: “PLAY”, by artist Evan McKeith.

 

  

Painting: “POSITIVE”, by artist Jadem McKeith.

  

Painting: “FIGHT CANCER”, by artist Jared Sturdz.

 

  

Painting: “GO TEAM CANCER”, by artist Marissa Lewandowski.

 

  

Painting: “REACH YOUR GOLE”, by artist Melissa Rupp.

 

  

Painting: “VICTORY”, by artist Rachel Sturdz.

The oldest artist in the class is 18 years old and wears this message on her t-shirt (front and back):

  

She also creates the “FLOWER CHILD” painting. I just adore this girl! I think we are soul sisters!

As the day draws to a close, Patricia casually invites me to a Women’s Art Therapy Class that is meeting on Thursday.  Their art will also be displayed at Thursday night’s show. Of course, I am interested and once again, I agree to meet her at the Josephine Ford Cancer Center.

And once again, I am unprepared for the creativity of the artists, and the spirituality and power of very wise and humorous women. The short time I spend with them is enough to cause marvel at their uniqueness, and be affected by all .

I title this photograph, “Beautiful Warriors”. True strength does not have to be loud and hard; these women are kind, compassionate, and incredibly strong. “It is the rain that grows flowers, not the thunder.”

Artists, Left to right: Sue Spotts, Ruth Ann Brayman, Nancy Pitel (artist who subs as teacher), Patricia Izzo, Shirley McBroom, Brenda Kahn, (not pictured, Deborah Helton).

 

The artists and their work at the “ART HEALS” exhibition:

Painting: “PEARL EARRINGS”, by artist Sue Spotts.  Sue has discovered her enormous talent only in recent years and is humble and casual about it. She says of my writing craft, “you’re just using a different brush”. I love that. A very gentle and humorous warrior.

 

Painting: “MEDITATION GARDEN”, by artist Ruth Ann Brayman.  Ruth gives glory to God by hiding a cross in each of her beautifully detailed paintings. She has the most lovely eyes; painted like an early summer morning blue sky misted by a light fog.  A sweet and loving warrior.

 

Painting: “CABIN IN THE MEADOW”, by artist Shirley McBroom.  Shirley’s incredible artwork shows perception, depth, and a wonderful natural talent with shadows. She reluctantly agrees to this photo, although she is as lovely as her painting. A warm and gracious warrior.

 

Painting: “EXHALING HOPE”, by artist Brenda Kahn. Brenda hiked 8.5 miles around the mountainous trails shown in this painting. We talk briefly, but intimately, and I realize that I, too, am a cancer survivor. My eyes brim with tears. She welcomes me warmly and somehow, I feel honored to be included in such elegant company. A gentle and graceful warrior.

 

Painting: “KAYAK CALLING”, by artist Deborah Helton.  Debbie is currently working on a painting of a cabin she has up north in the woods. We bond in agreement that it, “looks like a small piece of Heaven!”  She herself is like a delicate, but strong flower that one might find growing in the shade of a beautifully wooded piece of paradise. A soft and kind warrior.

 

Completing the “ART HEALS” exhibition, are paintings created by the children of the SandCastles Children’s Grief Support Group.

And from the mouths of babes . . .

  

  

After visiting with the artists and with other admirers such as myself, I go home with my creative hungers satisfied and my heart full. I feel blessed and grateful.

On Friday morning I rise, tired, but still basking in the afterglow and glory of an incredible week and amazing people.

But my day begins early today.

Once again I walk into the Josephine Ford Cancer Center. My friend smiles and says, “Oh, Julia, you made it! It’s so good to see you!”

I swear she’s got the elegance of Grace Kelly.

Soon, we celebrate that her lab numbers are up and while she is getting her chemo, we spend the time in intimate chat and laughter. I treasure the moment and mark it as forever precious.

I look over at her and smile.

I have come full circle. What a journey.

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A special thank you to Patricia Izzo, all the artists, the Downriver Council for the Arts, and the wonderful staff at the Josephine Ford Cancer Center, for welcoming me and graciously allowing me to share in your magic. You are all a treasured surprise and have deeply touched me. I hope that I have done you justice; I fear that I have not.

The words have yet to be created for those as wonderful as you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: Art, Downriver/Detroit, Michigan, Grief/Healing, Inspiration/Motivation, Mental Health, Photography, Physical Health | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

WRITING NOTES

Sometimes late at night while I’m watching television in bed, things get percolating in my brain and become inconveniently irrepressible. Being the lazy creature that I am, most times I won’t rise to retrieve my laptop, but will take a pen to whatever is lying on the floor next to the bed, whether it’s a napkin, bookmark, or random scrap of paper.

In this case, appropriately, it was the back inside cover of an  issue of Writer’s Digest Magazine;  and I used every bit of white space that I could find on the page to expel my thoughts.

And although this now illegible page is entitled, “Write Great Fiction”, what I ultimately pulled from all my chicken scratch was not fiction at all, but a poem for a friend who had just lost her husband.

One small part of that is a simple but heartfelt sentiment that I’m rather fond of:

“A brilliant star was plucked from the night,

but Heaven got brighter, can that be right?

I think of you and I understand why;

you’re making God smile and it lights up the sky!”

When something needs to be expressed, anything can become a canvas; and whatever the creative endeavor, the important thing is to find your own canvas and your own way to paint it.

Of course this bit of scribbled mess was eventually transferred to my laptop where it was worked and reworked; but it started here, with a heart full of emotions, a slothful disposition, and the old fashioned notion of taking pen to paper.

Imagine that.

Categories: Art, Grief/Healing, Inspiration/Motivation | Tags: , , , , , , | 18 Comments

WHEN PAINTING . . .

I went to an art show recently and felt just like Dorothy did when she first saw The Emerald City. It was magical! I am so inspired by their “Homage” exhibit that I’ve decided to pay homage to them by painting my interpretation of the yellow brick road and Dorothy’s ruby slipper and gifting it to the owner of the Rivers Edge Gallery. 

But honestly, I’ve never painted a thing in my life.

Oddly enough, I have the art supplies in my bedroom closet.

In December I purchased some stuff for a friend and bought extra for me, although I’m not  sure why. But the weeks passed, and turned into months, and each time I opened my closet door, I saw the paints, brushes, and canvases.

“Julia, bring us out into the light! Use us!” They taunted me.

“I’m afraid! I can’t! I don’t know what to do with you!” I replied and promptly closed the door.

But, now inspired, I reluctantly begin.

One thing becomes crystal clear: I can’t draw a shoe or a brick. I begin with a smudgy, yellow, abstract road. But something is off and I can’t figure out what. I try again and again.

Frustrated, I put it aside and go watch television. As I flip through the channels, I see a mountain scene with a winding road, and a vast blue sky.

Excited, I return to the dining room table to paint another canvas. This time I add the sky and the picture gains depth. I go out and buy a sticker of a high heel shoe and “MacGyver” it with some red glitter paint and then glue it to a toothpick so it will protrude from the canvas.

Now covered in paint and tickled pink,  I complete my somewhat juvenile rendition of Oz’s yellow brick road.

Okay, so it isn’t a masterpiece.  I can live with that. And I’ve learned a few things along the way.

Whether you’re creating your first painting . . . or painting the canvas of your life, remember these simple rules:

  • There are no rules. Only advice. And it never hurts to listen; it might even save you some trouble. Either way, paint your picture the way you want to.
  •  Don’t get trapped by your own labels. I had to stifle my inner voice that said, “I’m a writer, not a painter!”
  •  There’s no avoiding it, things have to come out of the closet.  🙂
  •  Proper lighting is vital. Good painting and good living both require clear vision.
  •  Sometimes you have to briefly step away to gain a new perspective. A patch of sky, (or a breath of fresh air), can bring new ideas and help you to focus.
  •  It’s good to improvise. Be flexible. Embrace your mistakes. Have fun!
  •  If you don’t like your picture, just start over.
  •  And finally, when you gift a painting, you’re gifting a part of yourself, and the recipient will surely smile in appreciation of your efforts.

And that, my friends, is priceless.

4”x4” acrylics, “Homage to Rivers Edge Gallery, Wyandotte, MI”, by Julia Kovach, Writer and Artist.

Categories: Adventures, Art, Inspiration/Motivation | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 34 Comments

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