Fondling Contrast
Sassy is happy to report that rest has been achieved! Vim and vigor have returned just in time; this week is the beginning of lots of busy things such as the start of the 2012 racing season, spring yard work at The Jesus Crack House, my 40th year on this planet, continued novel editing, the development of AppleJack's personal chef business, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Before I get to all that I promised you a new art feature last week so let's start out with fun stuff.
When I left the law firm and entered the non-profit world I discovered that one of my friends is also a relative. She started out as a running buddy and fellow yogini, then a close friend and confidante, and after all that connecting of our lives she turns out to be a cousin by marriage. I know, I know--way cool and probably no accident. We had no idea when we met years ago that one day we would be sharing so much: workplace, yoga class, running club, heart space, adoptive mothers of Ugly Dolls, and then the same family. When Christmas rolled around she lowered yet another blow to the mind. She's also an artist. Two painted canvases appeared in her office window in December. When inquiries were made regarding the charming artist she admitted to being the culprit behind our collective amazement. I bought one of her paintings to give as a gift and then before we broke for Christmas vacation she gave me a gift certificate for a commissioned painting of anything I wanted.
What I wanted was a yoga goddess for the pedestal in my home yoga studio. I gave her a starter design, specified how I wanted it customized, and then gave her all the time in the world to make it real. Last Thursday she finished that reality. The original design was so detail-rich that I thought I might be lucky to see half of it all rendered on the canvas she presented me. With a second blow to the mind she managed to include every detail--even my custom requests. I immediately went strong in the heart and weak in the knees with Wow. Art is such a powerful gift to receive. All I could think to do besides thank her and fawn over the exquisiteness of it was to share it so I took the painting to our yoga class that evening. I presented the painting to the class and encouraged all of our yoginis still practicing without a dedicated home space to use my painter/cousin/friend as an inspiration source, even if all they could find was a corner. Then I took my goddess home and placed her on her pedestal.
The very next day my neighbors cut down a huge tree that grew on our adjoining property line. While it was a gorgeous tulip magnolia that littered our lawns with pale pink confetti in the spring and shaded my house in the summer, it had to come down to facilitate the repair of some devastating drainage problems over on their property. The result is that my yoga room is now flooded with sunlight that used to be blocked by the tree. The windows on either side of the painting now blaze with fire in the afternoons as if the power of My Happy is emanating from all around her. You'll also notice she wears a divine crown. She has a starry leg and water leg indicative of her dream travels through time and she is equally balanced between earth (this world) and sky (spirit world), with life flowing like a conduit thriving on her connection between the two worlds. One light arm and one dark arm carry the gifts of embracing a sorrowed past and a fertile future. She sits calmly, casting a feminine pink aura, and then rests against a background of an even paler pink; the color it took me half a lifetime to accept.
Although I felt an instant Zing when I saw it, I didn't create this design. I found it while I was kicking over some rocks on the internet and she sang to me, one goddess to another. The artist of the original design is Nancy Vala and her design included a lotus blossom below the figure where mine says "My Happy." Nancy has a collection of designs over at Cafe Press that can be applied to lots of products like t-shirts, tote bags, and coffee mugs. This design was not available as a painting so it is actually the collaborative work of two artists--Nancy for the original digital work and my cousin for the reproduction by hand on canvas.
I asked to have the words "My Happy" included on my painting to remind me from where happiness comes--from me, from within, from the same place as my sadness and everything else I feel. It's a deep sentiment wrapped up in just those two words. If I meditated upon nothing else for the rest of my life this concept alone would be enough to keep me busy. Here is my perpetual reminder home on her pedestal draped with a vintage scarf from my mother-in-law's bottomless cedar chest and accompanied by my favorite empty vessels and Kathryn's crown. This is the west wall of my yoga room. You can see the bright new light through the windows reflected in the vessels and even a hint of my reflection as I photographed her. Eventually I will paint this room but for now there is plenty of color to stimulate me. Quintessential sassy.
Although I informed my cousin that I would be blogging about her painting I did not ask permission to use her real name. If you would like to commission a painting from my cousin I can put you in touch with her. I am obviously thrilled with the results and I feel confident that you would be too.
The energy return may be largely due to getting some rest and getting inspired by art but I would be remiss if I didn't also give credit to the wild game that was prepared as an offering to me by AppleJack. His creativity and resourcefulness in the culinary arts is surging. Growing his own produce and making pasta from scratch just wasn't enough. He is now curing his own meats and making his own sausage.
You know my big brown hairy weakness for wild game; it stands between me and vegetarianism like a hot wild streak running through my genetic code. There are indigenous ancestors somewhere back along my train track dancing around a fire and singing in lusty voices demanding my meaty attention. Last night I was given a wild duck sausage to fortify my energies. Over the last few months I have also been presented with homecured duck pancetta and proscuitto that dried on a nail in my pantry like a disembodied arm. He has also been pickling and brining and smoking everything under the winter sun. Tonight it was a spatchcocked native bird smoked over flame and I can feel my joints grow juicy with it.
Wild native food gives me a primitive kind of satisfaction. They spark all kinds of compulsions that include nakedness and moonlight and throaty calls in the night. Must be the Skystalker in me. Remember the Skystalker? I bet she has dirty bare feet and bruises just below her knees from jumping and landing and rolling over in the darkness. I bet she sometimes loses her voice and her fingernails and finds bent twigs in her hair. I bet her neck smells like salty feathers and the insides of her elbows are dusted with silt and pollen. I bet her hands are cold but the small of her back is warm and sweaty. I bet she paints the curves of her thighs with mud that swirls and runs abstract with the splashes of green river water and the press of evening dew. I remember the Skystalker. Kind of an interesting contrast to the yoga painting serenity I conjured up above, now isn't it? Well that's Sassy for ya.
Welcome to a new week, my friends. Fondle it--all of it.
(c) 2012, ACG
When I left the law firm and entered the non-profit world I discovered that one of my friends is also a relative. She started out as a running buddy and fellow yogini, then a close friend and confidante, and after all that connecting of our lives she turns out to be a cousin by marriage. I know, I know--way cool and probably no accident. We had no idea when we met years ago that one day we would be sharing so much: workplace, yoga class, running club, heart space, adoptive mothers of Ugly Dolls, and then the same family. When Christmas rolled around she lowered yet another blow to the mind. She's also an artist. Two painted canvases appeared in her office window in December. When inquiries were made regarding the charming artist she admitted to being the culprit behind our collective amazement. I bought one of her paintings to give as a gift and then before we broke for Christmas vacation she gave me a gift certificate for a commissioned painting of anything I wanted.
What I wanted was a yoga goddess for the pedestal in my home yoga studio. I gave her a starter design, specified how I wanted it customized, and then gave her all the time in the world to make it real. Last Thursday she finished that reality. The original design was so detail-rich that I thought I might be lucky to see half of it all rendered on the canvas she presented me. With a second blow to the mind she managed to include every detail--even my custom requests. I immediately went strong in the heart and weak in the knees with Wow. Art is such a powerful gift to receive. All I could think to do besides thank her and fawn over the exquisiteness of it was to share it so I took the painting to our yoga class that evening. I presented the painting to the class and encouraged all of our yoginis still practicing without a dedicated home space to use my painter/cousin/friend as an inspiration source, even if all they could find was a corner. Then I took my goddess home and placed her on her pedestal.
The very next day my neighbors cut down a huge tree that grew on our adjoining property line. While it was a gorgeous tulip magnolia that littered our lawns with pale pink confetti in the spring and shaded my house in the summer, it had to come down to facilitate the repair of some devastating drainage problems over on their property. The result is that my yoga room is now flooded with sunlight that used to be blocked by the tree. The windows on either side of the painting now blaze with fire in the afternoons as if the power of My Happy is emanating from all around her. You'll also notice she wears a divine crown. She has a starry leg and water leg indicative of her dream travels through time and she is equally balanced between earth (this world) and sky (spirit world), with life flowing like a conduit thriving on her connection between the two worlds. One light arm and one dark arm carry the gifts of embracing a sorrowed past and a fertile future. She sits calmly, casting a feminine pink aura, and then rests against a background of an even paler pink; the color it took me half a lifetime to accept.
Although I felt an instant Zing when I saw it, I didn't create this design. I found it while I was kicking over some rocks on the internet and she sang to me, one goddess to another. The artist of the original design is Nancy Vala and her design included a lotus blossom below the figure where mine says "My Happy." Nancy has a collection of designs over at Cafe Press that can be applied to lots of products like t-shirts, tote bags, and coffee mugs. This design was not available as a painting so it is actually the collaborative work of two artists--Nancy for the original digital work and my cousin for the reproduction by hand on canvas.
I asked to have the words "My Happy" included on my painting to remind me from where happiness comes--from me, from within, from the same place as my sadness and everything else I feel. It's a deep sentiment wrapped up in just those two words. If I meditated upon nothing else for the rest of my life this concept alone would be enough to keep me busy. Here is my perpetual reminder home on her pedestal draped with a vintage scarf from my mother-in-law's bottomless cedar chest and accompanied by my favorite empty vessels and Kathryn's crown. This is the west wall of my yoga room. You can see the bright new light through the windows reflected in the vessels and even a hint of my reflection as I photographed her. Eventually I will paint this room but for now there is plenty of color to stimulate me. Quintessential sassy.
Although I informed my cousin that I would be blogging about her painting I did not ask permission to use her real name. If you would like to commission a painting from my cousin I can put you in touch with her. I am obviously thrilled with the results and I feel confident that you would be too.
The energy return may be largely due to getting some rest and getting inspired by art but I would be remiss if I didn't also give credit to the wild game that was prepared as an offering to me by AppleJack. His creativity and resourcefulness in the culinary arts is surging. Growing his own produce and making pasta from scratch just wasn't enough. He is now curing his own meats and making his own sausage.
You know my big brown hairy weakness for wild game; it stands between me and vegetarianism like a hot wild streak running through my genetic code. There are indigenous ancestors somewhere back along my train track dancing around a fire and singing in lusty voices demanding my meaty attention. Last night I was given a wild duck sausage to fortify my energies. Over the last few months I have also been presented with homecured duck pancetta and proscuitto that dried on a nail in my pantry like a disembodied arm. He has also been pickling and brining and smoking everything under the winter sun. Tonight it was a spatchcocked native bird smoked over flame and I can feel my joints grow juicy with it.
Wild native food gives me a primitive kind of satisfaction. They spark all kinds of compulsions that include nakedness and moonlight and throaty calls in the night. Must be the Skystalker in me. Remember the Skystalker? I bet she has dirty bare feet and bruises just below her knees from jumping and landing and rolling over in the darkness. I bet she sometimes loses her voice and her fingernails and finds bent twigs in her hair. I bet her neck smells like salty feathers and the insides of her elbows are dusted with silt and pollen. I bet her hands are cold but the small of her back is warm and sweaty. I bet she paints the curves of her thighs with mud that swirls and runs abstract with the splashes of green river water and the press of evening dew. I remember the Skystalker. Kind of an interesting contrast to the yoga painting serenity I conjured up above, now isn't it? Well that's Sassy for ya.
Welcome to a new week, my friends. Fondle it--all of it.
(c) 2012, ACG
LOVELY, deeply meaningful painting! Bravo to the collaboration!
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What a cool painting!
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