The more consciously we look for things, the more we see them.

Try it for yourself. Look for a specific brand and/or color of car on your next commute to work and be amazed at just how many you see.

I asked my class at Spalding House (aka The Contemporary Museum), to take the week between classes to look for faces — not in people, but in the world around us.

They found faces in the clouds, on slabs of marble and granite, on a wall of brushed metal, on a piece of wood paneling, in the lichen and moss on rocks, in trees. They brought a cornucopia of images to class.

My heart swelled; they’re expanding their vision, and their world, through the practice of art!

Creating art does that for us.

People often think of art as something “extra”, like an elective in our otherwise busy “life schedule”.

Art, the creation of it and the appreciation of it, can be much, MUCH more.

Art is a means of communication. As such it can “connect the dots” of all that we know to all the many things that we don’t yet know.

Art communicates to us on a mental level, and even more often, on a heart-to-heart level, a more powerful, and potentially subversive sort of communication.

Tree Diva

My friend Larry owns Art Attacks, a frame shop in Honolulu.

One day while working in an art gallery, Larry saw a woman put her hand to her heart and gasp while looking at the painting in front of her.

Thinking she was in pain, he rushed to her side, only to discover she was having an “Art Attack,” not a heart attack.

The beauty of the painting had evoked a gasp from her as she connected to it on a deep, visceral level.

Art comes in a wide variety of styles and subject matter. We decide which images we like and which ones we don’t.

Our tastes, our preferences are our own, for us to decide, and no business of another. Isn’t that great?

Today let’s celebrate art for its power to connect.

Art is ALL around us every day.

Art is more than what we see in a museum or gallery. Art, especially art well done, is so prevalent that it is all but invisible.

Let’s connect a few more dots …

Graphic Art creates ease of use and beauty in books, magazines, catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, and even the signs on our highways and in our libraries.

Textile Arts create clothing, fabrics, pillows, and more.

Decorators create beauty in homes and stores (have you looked at the displays at Whole Foods lately?).

Culinary Arts create amazing food for us to eat and see — we eat with our eyes first.

Art and Friendship connects you and me.

Heart Strings

It’s our connection to one another and to a greater wholeness that is at the heart of this holiday season.

Thank you from the depths of my heart, for sharing my journey through art with me. I truly value our connection and the many gifts we have to offer one anther.

I took just one painting class in college — oil painting. I loved it, but had more fun working in clay, and spent many semesters up to my elbows in “mud.”

Years after graduating, when I decided to paint again, I dug out my old oils. They still held magic.

Back then, I was working full time as Creative Services Director, and got up to paint before going to work. That gave me 20–45 min. of painting time about three times a week.

Each day I took a photo of my painting in progress. I liked seeing the painting develop, and knew that I could “blow it” with my next brush stroke. I figured if I had a record of what it looked like when I liked it, I could get back to that stage.

Opaque oil paints are “forgiving” because you can always paint over a passage you don’t like.

Watercolors are transparent, so there’s really “no going back”. Instead we continually move forward, adjusting our plans to make use of any perceived mistakes along the way.

I still take photos of my paintings in progress. I like to see the evolution of paintings — and so do my students.

I am both a “fast” and a “slow” painter. My motto is:
“Get in, Get Out, Step Back, Repeat…”

Basically this means that each brush stroke is done quickly, decisively, courageously … and then I STOP, step back, and look to see what’s happening with the painting.

If I know what to do next, I continue on with this “Get in, Get Out, Step Back, Repeat…” method.

Sometimes there’s a long pause between brush strokes. Sometimes it’s because I don’t know what to do next. Sometimes it’s because there is something else that must be done (dinner anyone?).

Most of my paintings take weeks to complete. Even when I think a painting is finished, I put it away for a day or two so that the next time I look at it I have “fresh eyes”.

This is one reason I like to have many paintings in progress at one time. I can easily switch from one to another if I get stuck.

My students long to see me finish a painting in class. Sigh. They want to know how to know when a painting is finished.

Alas, this is a subjective matter.

Robert Genn, a revered master painter from Canada once wrote: “it is better to under paint by 10% than to over paint by 1%.”

Keep painting. The more you do it, the better you get, and the easier it will be to know when your painting is finished.

It’s an unsatisfying answer, yet true.

What if …

What if everything is unfolding just the way it’s supposed to unfold?

What if you took an hour, or just five minutes, to simply sit instead of rushing around?

What if the birds got it right and we really can sing for joy at first light?

This painting took over a year to complete
because I didn't like what I saw … until it
rested. After taking it out of sequestration,
it looked much better, and I could finish
the painting. We don't always like our works 
in progress.

Okay. What if the night owls got it right and those birds aren’t singing for joy, they’re raging against the sun for waking them up?

What if it doesn’t really matter?

What if everything matters?

What if no one else cares? What if it’s up to us to care, or to not care?

What if we get to decide what life means, what specific incidents mean, and what we want to do (or not do) with the meaning we assign to them?

What if it really is up to us to make these decisions?

Are we ready to assign positive meanings to our actions and their results?

What if just because I didn’t get the results I want immediately, I get them later instead?

What if there is a time delay that I forgot to factor into my “I want it now” equation?

What if that dab of paint I just added to my painting looks all wrong now, but leads to another and another and another dab that ultimately makes this painting my best one yet?

What if we’re taking score too soon?

What if we can’t quite see the whole picture and we need more information?

People are surprised when I tell them that I don’t know what my painting will look like when it’s finished. Heck! If I knew at the beginning of the painting what the result would be, there would be no magic in the painting and no reason to paint!

I don’t want to know with absolute certainty what the painting will look like when it’s finished.

What if all we need to do is trust in the process and in our ability to reach an end, a point of completion?

And what if that point of completion morphs into a new question or better yet, a new beginning point for our next painting?

What if we looked at all of life, and every moment in it, as a point of possibility? What if even the “bad times” really do have silver linings, and if we look for them, they will find us?

"It is better to believe than to disbelieve; in so doing you bring everything to the realm of possibility." ~ Albert Einstein

What if the choice really is that simple, and what if it’s ours to make in every moment?

Two professional oil painters recently told me that they are afraid of painting with watercolor. They said that it is too unpredictable and unforgiving. I have heard this before.

In fact, I used to believe that too. I had NO intention of even trying watercolor before moving into a very small apartment in Honolulu made it advisable (fumes from oil paints can be deadly).

Now I know watercolor can be magical & free as well as domesticated, and occasionally quiet.

Watercolor has many facets and can be used differently to suit your moods.

My favorite method is to embrace the mystery of painting as a form of meditation and insight.

I enjoy the challenge of starting fast with a loose idea. Then applying texture and paint to create an underpainting (my Hide-N-Seek method).

Later, when all the texture has been removed, I paint slowly, taking my time to find my original idea (the Seeking part of Hide-N-Seek).

It is a good idea to have several paintings going so that when you get “stuck” on one, you can work on another.

Each painting has the potential to teach us something new about art and about life.

When we quietly tiptoe into our paintings, we have the opportunity to watch magic happen as the world expands through our creation.

When painting slowly, stop periodically to really look at the painting in progress. In this way you can see what is needed and the painting process becomes a meditation.

Sometimes paintings happen quickly. Stunning paintings, filled with charged color and fluid movement can happen in one sitting.

There truly are as many ways to paint, as there are people.

If you want to find your own way with watercolor, please email me. Teaching and helping others to expand their artistic vision is one of my favorite things to do.

Not yet complete, here you see that I am finding more and more trees in this Aspen Grove in Autumn. This painting was started in the Hide-N-Seek Class I taught in Denver earlier in October, 2014. Ask me how you can arrange to have me teach a class in your neck of the woods!