Glimpses of the Truth: Life Lessons in Art

When I began work on this piece, I had no idea of the phases and changes it would undergo. I started this piece at a friend's art studio one afternoon in January 2015. I was simply playing and experimenting with watercolor. I put down several large brushstrokes in three different colors and that was the extent of it. I left it at her studio to dry and several months would go by before I laid eyes on it again. That summer afternoon when I finally saw it again, I brought it home and unrolled it onto my kitchen table, where it sat for several weeks as I continued to work on it. I added more watercolor, which added greater density and complexity. I didn't know where I was going with it, I just kept painting. Eventually I reached a point where it became a busy, almost garish conglomeration of watercolor. Unsure of where to take it next, I set it aside.

Verbal exchanges, unpleasant situations, and some serious life events took place while it was on the back burner. Each of these things forever altered my perspective and my life, and in keeping with that difference, I switched to acrylic paint when I finally returned to this piece in November of the same year. For that last phase of work, I started by covering the entire piece in an extremely thin layer of white acrylic paint. Then, using a silicone blade while still wet, I smeared the white paint, revealing some of the underlying layers of watercolor. I was happy with the result and the effect of the multiple layers; however, the piece was still not complete. 

If the events that had taken place taught me anything, it's that when my intuition gets dragged into a situation, then there is almost always more going on underneath the surface. What better way to mask everything than to cover it with solid black. I cut out strips of artists' tape and placed them directly onto the paper. Then I proceeded to slather everything with generous amounts of black paint. I smoothed it out with a silicone blade and let everything dry. When the time felt right, I gently lifted the edges of the artists' tape and began to peel off the strips. What I discovered is that when you begin peeling back the layers of subterfuge, you get:

"Glimpses of the Truth"

Featured in this post: Glimpses of the Truth 
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

Refraining from Entanglement

That moment when you realize that you've come full circle, when an experience from a previous relationship plays itself out again in a current relationship, is, in a peculiar way, rewarding. It's especially rewarding when this time around you're applying the lesson you've learned. Suddenly, the past makes much more sense than it ever did.

In the spring of 2010, there was an escalating issue in my family that was spilling over into the relationship that I was in at the time. The person I was dating was unhappy about my family situation, and rightfully so. Being the peace-keeper that I am, I was trying to cater to everyone. It worked only for a short while until I could see the anger building in the person that I was dating. He kept wanting to get involved and I repeatedly asked him to let me handle it since it was my family. He eventually reached his breaking point, and, against my wishes, got involved. What ensued was an unpleasant verbal altercation between him and a family member of mine. In the end, the relationship imploded, I had an ugly mess to deal with in my family, and there was no peace among any of the parties involved, which was the opposite of what I had wanted all along.

Flashing forward to the summer of 2015, I was in a different relationship, but a similar situation was starting to arise. As discussed in a previous post, my partner and I had gone through an unpleasant and unacceptable experience with his family a few months before. So this time around, the tables were turned and I was in the role of witnessing things occurring in my partner's family that I disagreed with. Part of me wanted to get involved (in a less explosive way than my ex did) to stand up for my partner, but I struggled with what to do and how to do it. When I presented a few ideas to friends of mine, they advised against it. So out of sheer frustration, I did nothing. As an escape, throughout August and September, I created:

"Refraining from Entanglement - Cognitive"

"Refraining from Entanglement - Associative"

"Refraining from Entanglement - Autonomous"

All three pieces from the series are composed of watercolor and acrylic paint. Beyond that, the elements of each piece varies, with some containing molding paste, gouache, gesso, and various material to help create the shapes and patterns that you see. The series title "Refraining from Entanglement" was inspired by a composition titled "Entanglement (Reprise)" found on the soundtrack to the film Senn. I listened to it repeatedly while I created the first piece of the series. The subtitles from the series "Cognitive", "Associative", and "Autonomous" are the three stages of learning. 

The orange (cognitive) piece came first. It began with the smaller solid orange vertical lines. From there, I created small strips of differing hues, patterns, shapes, and textures. Once completed, I immediately began work on the purple (associative) piece, applying what I had learned from the previous one to this one. After this one was complete, I thought I was finished with this project, but a few weeks later, the green (autonomous) piece decided it needed to be made. Again, I built on what I learned by creating the previous pieces.  

It wasn't until that first piece was complete that I realized what was happening. By creating this work, I was avoiding getting involved in my partner's family's affairs. The artwork represents the idea of separation with each section remaining separate and confined without mingling with another section. Had I allowed the sections of paint to mix, the unique colors and patterns would be lost resulting in a cloudy, muddled pool. In the same vein, the aftermath of stirring things up with my partner's family would be nothing more than a mess. 

Some have disagreed with my stance on this and think that I should have spoken up in the situation. I can see the inclination to do that, especially in the age of social media where everyone is prone to give their opinion on everything all the time; however, my getting involved in the situation would only have made things more difficult for my partner and I might have jeopardized my role as his ally. As I learned from my ex, even when a situation is unfair and you fully disagree with it, unleashing your anger and spouting off your opinions won't help your case. Sometimes, the best course of action is to do nothing and continue observing, remembering, and refraining from entanglement.

Featured in this post:   Refraining from Entanglement - Cognitive     Refraining from Entanglement - Associative     Refraining from Entanglement - Autonomous 

All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

Unleashing Creativity with Naturally Dyed Eggs

While I am by no means a traditional guy, the exception for me is that I love dyeing eggs in the springtime. It's an activity that I enjoyed as a child and now as an adult it has become a sacred ritual that spans 2 days and is reminiscent of the building excitement of Christmas to a child. After not dyeing eggs for many years, two years ago on a whim, I decided to dye eggs again and attempt it using natural dyes. I gathered a few ingredients (coffee, tea, turmeric, and grape juice) and winged it. I had mild success that year. Of the dozen eggs that I dyed, about 4 or 5 of them turned out. That experience in 2014 taught me a lot, which I applied a year later when it came time to dye eggs again. I was also better prepared with the proper jars and a more extensive list of ingredients. I achieved significantly better results in 2015 with all 16 of the eggs I dyed. After posting photos of that year's batch online, a few people asked me to share my process with them. It took me a year, but I am sharing that now through this year's batch.  

Friday

Typically, my egg-dyeing ritual begins on Friday. This photo shows the ingredients used in my 2016 batch: purple kale, cherries, cranberries, yellow onion skins, red onion skins, dried day lilies, blueberries, turmeric, match green tea, beet powder, blackberries, dried hibiscus petals, pomegranate, and asparagus. Two additional ingredients not pictured here that I used were red wine and rooibos tea. Of all of these, only three of them yielded no results: asparagus, pomegranate, and matcha green tea. I learned afterward that the trick to using pomegranate is to boil the peel (I had only the insides of a pomegranate). It's also worth noting that the cherries yielded a pale brown, which can be used as a base or second color, but it's not quite up to par to be used on its own. A very important fact that I learned after everything was in the fridge: most varieties of North American day lilies are toxic, and for cats they are lethal. I removed all unused day lilies from my house immediately and left only the ones that were already "steeping" with the eggs. Even though the day lilies provided a pretty bluish-grey hue, I discarded those 2 eggs after photographing them so as not to take any chances. (In 2017, I will purchase Chinese day lilies to use because they are not at all harmful to consume.)

With the purple kale, hibiscus, turmeric, and beet powder, I included them in the pot of water to cook with the eggs. I also added vinegar to help with transferring the colors onto the eggshells. It's important not to overdo the vinegar. As I learned in 2014, too much vinegar will soften your eggshells and the dye ingredient will soak into the egg. If you use only enough water to cover a single layer of eggs in a pot, then add no more than 1/4 of a cup (4 tablespoons) of vinegar. The yellow and red onion skins were also cooked in the water with the eggs, but they do not require vinegar. Onion skins are potent colorants and the more skins you use for dyeing, the more pronounced the hue will be. As for all of the different berries, I cooked the eggs separately and then combined them afterward. These fruits do not require vinegar, either.

For the ingredients that you boil along with the eggs, transfer the liquid into the jar. Using a spoon, gently lower the eggs into the jar. Adding the food items (kale leaves, onion skins, etc.) will give a unique pattern to the eggs, so if you want solid colors on your eggs, do not include the leaves and skins. For the fruits, I usually only partially mash them and then spoon them into the jars around the eggs. Again, use only the juice if you want a uniform, solid look to your eggs. If you want to create different designs and patterns on your eggs, anything that you can place between the dye and the eggshell will work. Popular items include rubber bands and tape, but let your imagination run wild. The best way to learn is to experiment. When finished, seal the lids and place the jars in the refrigerator overnight or longer.

Saturday

The vessel in which you "steep" your eggs is important. Ideally, you want a tall, narrow jar so that you can include several eggs all while keeping the liquid as concentrated as possible. In 2014 I made use of various items in my kitchen, but for my 2015 batch, I purchased these 1-liter cylindrical jars made by Weck. I used them again this year and they are absolutely perfect for dyeing eggs. On Saturday, if the sun happens to be shining, I will remove the jars from the refrigerator and place them on the windowsill to steep in the sunshine for a bit. On Saturday is when you will want to transfer your eggs to another color or add/alter the items (rubber bands, tape, etc.) on the eggs. If you're using an ingredient that isn't giving you the results you want, now is the time to change your plan for those particular eggs because this will be your last chance to make any changes to your eggs before they're finished. 
   
At this point, I often peek into the jars to see what is happening with the eggs, much like marveling at the presents under a Christmas tree. The wonder and mystique is exhilarating. The excitement for what's to come when I unveil the eggs is palpable. I eagerly await Sunday morning.

Sunday
The culmination of your excitement and your work comes with the big reveal on Sunday morning. The elation that I felt as a child tearing into Christmas presents is echoed in unveiling the dyed eggs, although I find that the reveal of eggs has a more satisfying payoff, perhaps from the aesthetic qualities of the eggs combined with the gratification of knowing that I created them myself. Either way, the experience is euphoric for me. Pick a jar and start removing your treasures. You will want to handle the eggs as little as possible so as to preserve the look. Depending on the ingredient used, you can rub off some of the color for a paler look, if that is your preference. However you decide you like your eggs to look, you will want to blow dry them, which helps to preserve the look. Once dried, I gently rub mine with olive oil, which intensifies the colors, patterns, and contrasts found on each egg.

As discussed previously, last year's batch brought about an emotional turning point in my creative identity. Naturally, I went into this year's ritual with a slightly refined process, an arsenal of magical energy, and my most ambitious roster of ingredients to date. The outcome, pictured in these 2 photos, did not disappoint, with 22 striking eggs in the end.

Like previous years, 2016's experience came with its own lessons, which I will likely apply next year. As you begin to do the ritual over time, you can start to see parallels between your emotional space and your creative output from year to year. In 2016, I needed an abundance of vibrant colors and so that is what I produced. 

Start your own egg-dyeing tradition, whether by yourself or with your children, and see where it takes you. Leave me a comment about your experiences or any questions you may have. Which ingredients work well for you? Follow the links below to view photos from all of my egg-dyeing rituals. Whether you celebrate Ostara, Easter, or Spring, make it a colorful, beautiful one.   
   
Featured in this post: Eggs for Ostara Series 3 No 1   Eggs for Ostara Series 3 No 2
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

38 Years Through the Camera Lens

I owned my first camera when I was 8 years old, and I have been a photographer ever since. I was utterly fascinated with the art form. The ladies at the pharmacy in town came to know me by name-- not from buying baseball trading cards, but from the steady stream of film that I would bring in to have developed. I don't remember the cost to purchase film, but I do remember that in 1985 in Derby, New York, developing a 24-exposure roll of film cost $6.42. From the time I dropped off a roll of film, I eagerly awaited returning to the pharmacy to retrieve the long envelope stuffed with 24 visual surprises. In those days, so many of the photos I took were not good, but I was fascinated and determined to continue. Over the next 10 years, I owned various point-and-shoot cameras, the makes of which I hardly recall. Any opportunity I had found me taking pictures. The photos were still far from being great, but I was becoming more cognizant of what makes a good photograph.

In 1995, at age 18, I received a refurbished Pentax K-1000. It was my first SLR camera and a handsome piece of machinery at that. I cut my teeth with that camera and I studied photography with it in college. As a result, I made great strides in my photography. At that point, I had stopped creating non-photographic artwork and focused on photography, making it the sole form of artistic expression that carried me into adulthood. Twelve years of using the Pentax left me with so many memories of it; some of them wonderful, some of them painful, but they are powerful memories, nevertheless. I resisted the initial onset of digital photography due to its inferior quality and continued to use my Pentax until 2007 when it stopped working. Shortly thereafter I received my first digital camera: a Minolta DiMage 7i. By that time, digital photography had advanced enough that I was eager to experiment. To my surprise, the new camera, an SLR-like camera, was a significant leap forward from the Pentax. I continued to sharpen my skills as a photographer; however there was a significant drawback with the Minolta: instead of using a rechargeable battery, it required 4 extra-strength AA batteries which would take only 40-50 photographs. Aside from the environmental concerns, at roughly $10 per pack, the cost for batteries was prohibitive and the possibility of running out of battery power during a shoot was an inconvenience. Whereas the Pentax enjoyed a long life of relevance and functionality, that of the Minolta, being an early digital camera, was ephemeral by comparison. I worked with the Minolta for 7 years until it stopped working in 2014. 

Both the Pentax and the Minolta had been gifts, both from men who tried to control me, and with the Minolta breaking at a pivotal period in my life, it was only fitting that I was the one to choose the camera for this next chapter. Enter the Sony Alpha a58, a gorgeous DSLR camera. I went into the camera store planning to buy a Canon, but after learning that I could get the same mileage from the Sony that I could from the Canon at nearly half the price, I opted for the Sony and used the money that I saved to buy a macro lens. If the jump from the Pentax to the Minolta was like landing on the Moon, then going from the Minolta to the Sony was like reaching Mars. I was floored by the quality and the precision. With the Sony operating on a rechargeable battery, I am free to shoot hundreds of photos without worry. Some of my best accomplishments in photography from the first year with the Sony include:

(To learn more about each of the photos, please visit their pages in my portfolio through the links below.)

Brushstrokes of the Cosmos

An Elegant End

Kissed So Gently

Nature has always been my subject of choice in photography, and I have spent more time in nature this past year trying to capture it than ever before. My life is starting to revolve around when to best capture sunsets and seasons, and I am happy with that being my focal point. When I am creating non-photographic artwork in my studio, I am in communion with the muses; when I am creating photographic artwork in nature, my spirit transcends this body and encompasses the living creatures around me. 

This upgrade and shift couldn't have come at a more opportune time. While rediscovering and reclaiming my identity as an artist, this new camera allows me to reach greater heights in photography. A longtime friend of mine has been asking me for years why I am not a professional photographer. My answer, "I am one step closer now." It is my destiny. After 38 years, the view through my camera lens has never been more magical. 

Featured in this post: Brushstrokes of the Cosmos   An Elegant End   Kissed So Gently
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

Coloring Hearts: Coming Full Circle

It is said that what we are drawn to in our childhood is what we are meant to do in that life. My earliest memories involve color and creativity. My first foray into art was at the tender age of 3 when I redecorated my cousin's room with spray paint. Nothing in my cousin's room was spared—even my cousin's dog, Benji, was part of the "Installation in Army Green". Spray painting his dog proved to be a misstep for me because when Benji returned to the kitchen with army green lowlights, it tipped off my father and uncle, who were fully engrossed in their cribbage game, that something was transpiring elsewhere in the house. As a result, work on my first objet d'art came to an abrupt end. After that fateful day, my father would draw hearts of various sizes on paper for me to color at the table. It was a win-win for everyone because my father and uncle could play their cribbage game while keeping tabs on me, and I got to explore and experiment with colors. It's also one of the few fond memories I have with my father. Despite my predilections to art and taking art classes throughout elementary, middle, and high school, I was never convinced that I had any talent and often struggled to complete projects. Along the way, I strayed away from art.

As I've explored in previous posts, my return to creating art was slow. It took a traumatic event to really push me in this direction and the turning point came 6 months later in April of this year when I set out to dye Easter Eggs with natural ingredients. After the mild success I had dyeing eggs the previous year, this year I prepared for the event and put forth the effort to yield greater results. I began the process on Friday night and by Sunday morning I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. As soon as I woke up, I bolted to the kitchen to begin unwrapping the eggs. I dyed 16 eggs thinking that if I were lucky I would end up with a few good eggs. Much to my surprise, not only did all 16 eggs turn out well, they were beautiful. After drying them, placing them in a tray, and stepping back to look at my creation, I did something I didn't expect to do: I cried. I wasn't crying tears of joy over the outcome, instead I was crying because it took me until age 38 to believe that I could achieve such an outcome; I was crying for the child and teenager who never believed in himself; I was crying for disregarding the positive comments I ever received about my talent and instead for absorbing all the negative comments and believing them to be true. Through those gentle tears, I released that grief and simultaneously I began to believe in my talent.

Collaborative work with my nephew

A few days later, my 
4-year-old nephew was at my house for the afternoon. At one point, we brought out the paper and the crayons and without thinking about it, I started drawing hearts for him to color. I explained primary colors and secondary colors to him and we talked about our favorite colors. One by one, he picked out the colors for each heart. It wasn't until we were almost finished that I realized the parallels to my childhood. After we finished, I showed him some of the artwork I was working on and the eggs I had made. When we came back to the paper with the hearts on it, I told him that I colored hearts like that when I was his age. He looked up at me and with a smile he said, "I know because you're so good at it now." I chuckled softly and said, "well thanks, little friend, it has taken me a long time to get here."

The unadulterated mind of a child can reveal the truth if we pay close attention. Their observations are honest and invaluable. Between my nephew's comment and remembering my experiences as a child, I began to decipher the great mystery as I understood that art is my destiny.

All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

On the Other Side of Rejection: Lighting Her Own Way

I grew up being a perfectionist, always trying to please a parent who never would be. At the age of 22 when I finally stood up to that parent, I learned who he really was, and that was the last day I spoke to him. Emancipating myself from him was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. There were times when it nearly destroyed me, when people felt compelled to tell me that they disagreed with me, but I persisted because I believed that no one should endure such shame and disrespect. Through it all, it prepared me for the world.

Earlier this year when my partner and I returned to his hometown in the Midwest for a family celebration, I experienced this all over again. I had met and interacted with my partner’s step-father previously, so my guard was down when we traveled to their home this year. However, from the moment I set foot in his kitchen, I knew that something had changed, that I wasn’t welcome, that we weren’t welcome. What unfolded as a joyous day for most was in fact uncomfortable and acutely painful for me as I watched the host welcome everyone into his home while he either completely ignored me, made fun of me with his friends, or spoke icily to me. My partner didn’t realize that anything was brewing until the next day when he and I were forced to leave his parents’ house. Initially I was more upset by this than my partner was. Having been through this, I knew what lay ahead; it would take my partner some time to begin to understand the gravity of this. 

Just before that devastating trip to the Midwest, I attended a Vision Board Party, which is where I acquired many of the elements used in my next piece. The groundwork was laid during the party/workshop, but it wasn't until returning home to Buffalo that I delved deeply into the piece. After working diligently for several days, in late February 2015 the convergence of different elements and emotions resulted in:

Lighting Her Own Way

This mixed media piece is composed of magazine clippings, acrylic paint, glitter card stock, and marker ink. I had a general idea of the visual aspect of the piece that I wanted, but I couldn't quite create it until a cold and snowy February day when I heard the piano version of "I'm in Here" by Sia. Listening to the song on my headphones while working set the stage for this piece. The song, which perfectly captured the emotional tone of the trip and the days that followed, echoed my inner feelings:

I'm in here. 
Can anybody see me?
Can anybody help?
I'm in here.
A prisoner of history.
Can anybody help?

Can you hear my call?
Are you coming to get me now?
I've been waiting for
You to come rescue me.
I need you to hold
All of the sadness I cannot live with inside of me.

I'm crying out,
I'm breaking down,
I am fearing it all,
Stuck inside these walls,
Tell me there is hope for me.
Is anybody out there listening?

I'm in here.
Can anybody see me?
Can anybody help?

I was lead to create a sunface for this piece because I was working with the idea of light. (I have been drawn to sunface and moonface art since I was a teenager, and as such, it tends to be a motif in my work.) As I reflected on my experience with my father and recalled how it was up to me to find my own way, I recognized that the same would be true for my partner and me in his situation. In fact, it's a universal theme for anyone who's been rejected by a parent: you have to learn to be your own source of happiness, your own light, when your parent has turned away from the joy of you. To me, the sun in this piece embodies that idea. She is lighting her own way. 

Featured in this post: Lighting Her Own Way 
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

Defusing Depression with Fine Art America and Orange Euphoria

To say that Fine Art America saved me is no exaggeration. Perhaps it's art that truly saved me. In October 2014 in the wake of an extremely unpleasant situation, the universe hurled me toward my destiny and Fine Art America was a beacon for me on that journey.

I was introduced to the Fine Art America community in March of that year. Intrigued by the website, I created an account immediately. It slipped off my radar for various reasons within a few weeks, but I found my way back again by late October. After a brief period of exploring the work of other artists, I took the plunge and began uploading my work to my online portfolio to "test the waters". After observing how groups and contests work, on January 1, 2015, I created my flagship group, Orange Euphoria, a photography-only group for images that showcase the color orange. 

My reasons for creating the group and establishing its guidelines were personal. I made it a photography-only group as an homage to the creative medium that saw me through my formative years. As far as devoting a group solely to the color orange, there were a few reasons. Primarily, orange has been my favorite color since early childhood. The other reason is because of its healing qualities with regard to loss and grief. As discussed in a previous post, in late October 2014 I found myself dealing with the aftermath of violence. Refusing to be shattered by this event, I turned to art and the color orange for guidance. Barbara McMahon, an artist in nearby Ontario, Canada, was the first person to join Orange Euphoria, and she uploaded this stunning beauty:

Orange Glow by Barbara McMahon

Barbara's "Orange Glow" is a gorgeous image that perfectly embodies the essence of Orange Euphoria. It was an honor to have this as the inaugural photograph in the Orange Euphoria gallery.

At a time when it would have been easy to slip into depression and suffer from anxiety and devastation, I was immersed in and comforted by the beautiful expressions of orange as the group began to grow. Orange Euphoria has blossomed throughout 2015 and as group curator it has become an intrinsic part of my life. When I'm not capturing images with my camera or creating work in my makeshift art studio, I browse the beautiful work in the group's gallery. I continue to be inspired by the diverse talent of our members. With each visit, I am left smiling at the beautiful world we have created together. It is a testament to the power of art, which helped to light the way for me out of the darkness. 

Featured in this post: Orange Glow by Barbara McMahon 
Experience Orange Euphoria (more work can be seen by clicking on the "Images" tab)
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.