New Painting, "There's A Certain Peace That Comes with Surrender"

 24" x 24" x 1.5"

Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas
Available

Here's a new painting inspired by my amazing Exhale Spa Dallas, yoga teacher Susie Caicedo . Susie encourages us daily and shines light for us to look w/in ourselves for strength & grace.


In the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali refers to this inner presence of Ishvara as our foremost teacher (I.26). Through intimate listening to this voice within us, we begin to have a relationship with inner guidance in all aspects of our life. When I think of my most important teachers, including my parents, I see that they were there not just for the big lessons but also in a thousand small ways, constantly showing me when I was on target or beginning to wander off the path, opening my being to new vistas and reminding me when I was closing myself to life. My experience of my inner teacher is similar: As my attunement to this inner sense of direction grows, it increasingly guides my thoughts, speech, and actions.


If Ishvara is the inner compass, pranidhana is remembering to stay connected to that essence not just occasionally but throughout the day. Ishvara pranidhana is also translated as "offering the fruits of one's actions to the Divine." So many misinterpret "surrender" as a giving up, accepting defeat, but when you examine the word from a sense of letting go of resistance, of accepting and being at peace with where you are, it takes on a beautiful new meaning. 


So...surrendering...to your painting, your life circumstances, is not always easy. It's a learning process...it involves taking that leap, that fearless risk, but if we can let it take us there, it's a really a beautiful thing.

detail

detail

Let Me Come and Be Still in Your Silence

24" x 48"
Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas
SOLD
Khudairi Collection
Houston, TX

This painting now belongs to a wonderful couple form Houston who came to visit my studio in Dallas. Mr. Khudairi asked me to  explain the meaning behind the painting,  specifically,  what did those words say that were  barely legible in the background. As far as the writings, I frequently incorporate the written word into my  works. Poetry has really found a unique place in my life.  I collage  favorite poetry of mine into the background of my pieces.  I've found that  most of the writings are barely legible in the background, it is a way for me to give my  even though  paintings a "voice", and convey a meaningful, personal message from my soul  to the viewer,  a message that is left up to them to interpret.  Pablo Neruda is my favorite spanish speaking poet, hands down.  Some of the writings  in the background come from this poem below, as does the title.  The rest are pages from my handwritten journals.  Neruda directs his language so well in this poem,  making you almost whisper most of it.  Beautiful.  I Like for You to be Still I like for you to be still: it as though you were absent, and you hear me from far away and my voice does not                           touch you It seems as though your eyes had flown away and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth. As all things are filled with my soul you emerge from the things, filled with my soul. You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream, and you are like the word Melancholy. I like for you to be still, and you seem far away. It sounds as though you were lamenting,  a butterfly cooing like                           a dove And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach                           you: Let me come to be still in your silence. And let me talk to you with your silence that is bright as a lamp,  simple as a ring. Your are like the night, with its stillness and constellations. Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid. I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent, distant and full of sorrow as though you had died. One word then, one smile, is enough. And I am happy, happy that it’s not true.

New Painting, The Quest for Clarity

16" x 20"

Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas
Available for online purchase here

“More important than the quest for certainty is the quest for clarity.” -Francois Gautier

If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans, right? Well, He has certainly had a good laugh on my behalf.

You think I would learn by now that good things only come from an authentic place, a place of clarity. This painting was a little light in the middle of feeling creatively tapped out at the moment. I have been working in the studio, a little too hard lately, with a sense of certainty...certain that I have to create something important, certain that this next piece will be my greatest.  After a week, it seems I ended up completely scrapping three canvases, just too overworked to salvage, and this one that was sort of my "test" canvas, my  "study" where I could be loose and free and not worry about the outcome so much, was the jewel.

Certainty can sometimes silence our strongest instincts–when, ironically, certainty is always an illusion.

The secure job could become obsolete. The dependable friend could move away. The stable relationship could run its course.

None of the things that seem secure and safe are guaranteed to endure–not forever, or for any length of time, for that matter. The nature of life is that everything moves and changes, ebbs and flows, with beginnings, middles, and ends.

We don’t get to know what will end when. We don’t get to know how long things will last. We can play the odds, try to align ourselves with probability for maximum longevity, comfort, and ease. Or we can instead focus on the possibilities that excite us and enjoy the journey to and through them, one moment at a time.

We can either make what seems to be the best choice for minimal loss and change; or we can get clear about what we want to do with the short amount of time we have, and then embrace the unknown, with our passion as a compass, finding our way as we go.

The irony about choosing the path that seems the most certain is that it generally guarantees only one thing: that we go through life wondering how things could have been if only we weren’t so scared.

Today if you find yourself clinging to something that feels predictable and safe, ask yourself: Are these the moments I want to remember when I look back on my life some day?

Newly Commissioned Piece, "Between the Stillness and the Movement"

16" x 20"

Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas

Private Collection of Erina Alvarado

"You tell me to stand still but I am not walking," he shouted, "whereas you who are walking say you are still. How is it that you are standing still but I am not?"

The Buddha turned round, "My legs move but my mind is still," he said. "Your legs are still but your mind moves all the time in a fire of anger, hatred, and feverish desire. Therefore, I am still but you are not." 

- Majjhima Nikaya

Fine art giclee prints of this and my other original works are available here on my Etsy site.

New Painting, "Remain Fluid in All Things"

12" x 12" x 1.5"
Oil and Mixed on Canvas
Available HERE

When I completed this painting, I was reminded of the Charles Bukowski Poem, below...

no help for that / Charles Bukowski

there is a place in the heart that
will never be filled

a space

and even during the
best moments
and
the greatest
times

we will know it

we will know it
more than
ever

there is a place in the heart that
will never be filled

and

we will wait
and
wait

in that
space.

~ You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense, 1986

And isn’t this the truth?  The space haunts me. It follows me around wherever I go, no matter who I’m with, at any given moment. At the darkest moments, it feels like a gaping hole in my small universe. At other times, the space is shallow, but it’s never full.

This space is restlessness, a longing for more, not be confused with unhappiness or depression. It’s fidgeting, constantly going and moving and talking and thinking. For me, it is a fear of never feeling complete or always adrift in the world.  But here's the thing I focused on while painting this piece...that's not always a bad thing.

But even in the best of times, times when I should feel like I have it all, there is a glint of something missing…

I have always thought that I just wasn’t occupying the space with the right things. It is an ongoing challenge for me to be comfortable there. So, I have always tried to fill it. I have tried to cover it up with family obligations, friendships, yoga, partying and work. But, I realize now, the space can never be filled.

As Bukowski writes, there is no help for that. The space will always be with us. What I strive to do is learn to accept it and face the insecurity, rather than fill it.

The space is not supposed to take us over. It is there to remind us that there is more and there will always be more. It is our motivation to continue searching for those things and people that keep the space small. And  there is nothing wrong with that faint indication of longing…

New Painting, "Look at Your Feet; You are Standing in the Sky"

Look at Your Feet; You are Standing in the Sky

24" x 36" x 1.5"

Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas

Available

Some works come easily and flow through me almost as if I have nothing to do with them but act as the vessel. Not so with this one. I fought and fought with this painting.  


It started off as the one in the middle with all the reds at the top. Initially, it was my favorite in that whole bunch I was working on at the time. I loved it that day when I took the pic below sooo much and thought it was nearly finished...but then things took a downward turn. I kept messing it up. I was trying too hard with it; my expectations were so high from the very beginning that every time I touched it I was disappointed. 

Each time I would go out to the studio I would try and try to make it something better,  more significant. Then for the past week I moved it to a dark area in the studio and have literally been hiding from it.


In a parallel universe, the same sort of thing was going on in my yoga practice. One of my favorite things in the world to do besides love on my babies and paint is to practice yoga. Thanks to this journey into getting to know myself better, as well as wonderful community of friends and teachers at Exhale, my daily practice has become a well that I draw endless amounts of strength, energy and inspiration from. 


The elusive handstand is something I attempt nearly every class. When the kids and I are horsing around in the playroom, we often do our handstand hops. (My five-year-old is pretty fantastic, BTW.) I am far from getting it, but every day I try.   As my teacher Brooke says, "You will never improve at a posture if you don't at least attempt it. it is in the trying that you grow."  Sometimes I can't even get my hips over my shoulders, sometimes I get it and hang on for a second, sometimes I fall.


This morning in class I tried. And lo and behold I caught some air. I could tell I did something differently because this attempt felt effortless. For what felt like an eternity (but was probably more like 8 seconds), I hung out in my handstand.  I could feel the love and support of my teacher from across the room. For some crazy reason, my mind wandered to my art sketchbook from Senior Year in high school, and this particular sketch I had done that had always seemed sort of random but all of a sudden made perfect sense: 

(That is the picture from my actual sketchbook, done in 1997.)  

The words, "Look at Your Feet; You are Standing in the Sky" clicked into realization. And then just as my mind wandered, I fell--very ungracefully, but luckily didn't get hurt--out of my handstand. The moment passed and class moved on, but for me a fundamental shift had occurred.

(detail)

I raced home, filled with energy and adrenaline. Luckily I had time in the studio today, and instead of running away from the painting I had grown to detest, I embraced it full-on, and added the layers of white and cream. Then I scraped away.  Then I added more layers of blues and turquoise, then I scraped away.  Vertical lines appeared, a virtual linear portrait of me in class this morning. 

Triumphant, the painting emerged.

So I will try again tomorrow, and again the day after that to do handstand. And I may get it but I probably won't. And my body will continue to be a vessel, a conduit, of energy and life and creativity. And I will remember that every day is a journey. And the journey itself is home.

New Painting, " I Can Hear You Singing to me in My Sleep"

I Can Hear You Singing to Me in My Sleep

11" x 14"

Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas

Available here

All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there. You are so weak. Give up to grace. The ocean takes care of each wave until it gets to shore. - Rumi

(detail)

There is something about this one that really captures my state of mind at the moment. A definite longing for the sea has come over me as Dallas descends into the lazy hazy days of summer.  My whole life has drawn me to the ocean, something at once that is at once calm and tranquil, tumultuous, vast and knowing, mysterious and deep.  Something that is a part of myself that I have yet to find...thinking of the sea reminds me that every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

Newly Commissioned Painting, "Plant Your Own Garden and Decorate Your Soul""

"Plant Your Own Garden and Decorate Your Own Soul"

16" x 20"

Acrylic and Mixed on Canvas
Tegeler Collection

I worked on this painting for a Collector, who also happens to be a dear friend, to be given as a gift to her niece on her 5th birthday. 


I thought of her the whole time and how much she is loved by her Aunt and wanted to convey that love as well as the wonderment of seeing the beauty of life through a child's eyes. 


The best compliment I could have received is hearing how much the child enjoyed running her hands over the rich texture and told her mom in a whisper, "I really like it, Mama."

"There are always flowers for those who want to see them."

-  Henri Matisse

New Painting, "Searching all of MY Days"

16" x 20"
Acrylic and Mixed on Canvas
Available

The minute I heard my first love story,

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,

they're in each other all along.

Rumi

There are so many things I could say about this painting. The act of searching, or always looking, has been a double edged sword for me.  Part of me feels like there is something in me that has been "searching all of my days". My restless spirit, my "monkey mind", is a part of my personality that fuels my ambition, my desire to create and moreover be successful. However, it is also this anticipation, this always looking ahead, that often keeps me from being fully present in the moment and enjoying my life as it is. I am working on staying present and realizing the gifts of my life, my beautiful family, the time with my precious children that are changing every day.  

Yoga and Creativity

My daily practice has transformed me physically and spiritually, but also creatively as well, which has been an unexpected but much welcomed bonus given my profession.

 Who would have guessed that yoga and creativity are inextricably linked?  

I am so grateful to my fantastic teachers at Exhale for helping me see this.  The two paintings below are just a few that would not have come to fruition if not for their loving guidance.

And You Will Rise Up Like the Sea
will be on display at my upcoming 4/16 show at Elle Realty in Lakewood.

So how are yoga and creativity connected? After all, one is a physical and mental discipline, and the latter a manifestation of innovative thoughts and ideas. But what seems like the ultimate mismatch, is in fact deeply entangled. 

Both have lead me to a newfound way of thinking and seeing the world.

The Secret is the Love,
currently on display at the Lovers Lane Antique Market

Yoga has deepened my mental awareness. The meditative aspect of yoga helps eliminate unnecessary thoughts cluttering the mind, freeing up valuable imagination real estate. When my mind is clear, ideas flow easily and freely. The best inspiration comes from a calm mind that is free of constant distraction. My practice has helped me "grow up" mentally and gain the confidence to express my ideas.

The breathing techniques I practice in yoga also help me keep unnecessary distraction and negativity at bay. A mind free of dark thoughts breeds clever ideas without playing devil’s advocate and dismissing what may be constructive or worthwhile ideas.

Yoga also makes me mindful and subject to a higher plane of  thinking (thinking about thinking) when in the process of creating. The importance of this is that I am constantly made aware of the background, possibilities and limitations of my work.  Everywhere I look I see the art in it...it's almost as if a veil has been lifted and the universe is revealing its beautiful secrets to me.  It's like I am tapping into an unused part of my brain for the first time.

Yoga has helped me surrender my ego and give into the creative process. One thing that severely hinders the creative process is the need to control it. Drop the ego and immediately one is less defensive, more open minded and more creative.  This is something I work on every day.

This enhanced focus my practice gives me is one of the reasons I have chosen to practice yoga early in the morning. I feel more centered and productive during the day. Yoga calms me and aids me in concentrating on what matters and shifts the focus to my art.

It's important to realize that creativity needn’t necessarily be painting, sculpting or writing a novel, one can be an artist in the smallest of his or her endeavors from doing chores to planning out an afternoon. People are creative when the things they do are executed with passion, imagination, a sense of humor or a new approach.  Namaste!