The Letter

I heard from the gallery on Wednesday, as I thought: rejected. I took it harder then I thought, though...I still don't want to tak about it...or paint, for that matter...I guess like everything else, this, too, will pass. But for the meantime, I just can't help feeling like a failure.

Night

" Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree."

Antoine De Saint-Exupery.

Need I say more?.

"The Interview"

Well, it is done. I had my interview on Tuesday. They asked me to take eight to ten paintings (I took eleven: "Hear my Voice", "Frozen Moon" , "The Path" , "Eclipse" , "A Window Home" , "Transition" , "Andante" ,"Dreams" , "Glow" , "Under he Gypsy Moon" , "Dancers in the dark" , plus my artist statement, a CD with my portfolio and several business cards). My husband came with me, partly because the case I was carrying the pieces in was very big and heavy and partly (mostly) because I was too nervous to drive. We got there about ten minutes earlier (which is always a good thing, because for some reason traffic was crazy!!!!!) and the meeting began.

The gallery was very nice, it's the Hosmer Gallery (inside Forbes Library) in Northampton, MA. I showed her everything I brought, and talked about what every piece was about, what it meant to me, the techniques I used for each one, etc. I know I messed up a couple of times, because when I'm nervous I tend to think faster than I can speak and as a result, I start stuttering and speaking really fast and also playing with my hands a lot (I do "speak" with my hands a lot, but hey, I have Italian and Spanish blood, so I can argue its genetic). There were a couple of pieces I could tell she really liked ("Transition" and "Frozen Moon"). In the end I think she found the work interesting, at least (and different...which is good, I suppose?). To make a long story short, she said she would let me know in 2 or 3 weeks whether I made the cut or not... so, guess what I asked Santa for this Christmas (hehehe).

All kidding aside, this was a very, very big deal for me... I never thought I would have the courage to do this. I never thought someone would take the time to look at my work and really look at it (the texture, the materials, the colors, not just "oh, its pretty!" or "How cute!"), ask me about it, evaluate it... and like it (and not laugh in my face). I never thought I would be taken seriously by a curator, or a gallery, for that matter. I don't know if I got the spot, and frankly, I'm not counting on getting it (I would love to, it would blow my mind, I would feel truly honored and thankful for the rest of my life... but there are a lot of more experienced and talented artists in that area, so the odds are against me), however just the fact that I had the chance to do this has freed me of so many demons... and there is when you come in. Thank you, to each and everyone of you. Everyone who's ever posted a comment, a word of support, anyone who has ever taken the time to read these posts, to look at the pictures: THANK YOU, you have helped me more than you will ever know in taking my first steps in this confusing and scary world of art. Thank you for the strength you have given me.

About the shadows that inhabit my relfection...

I know, it is a very long title, but really, it's just that.This one is about my need for expression and how the means to satisfy that need have changed over the years. I used to write poetry when I was a teenager, and before that I used to play the piano, and before that...I can't remember. Right now the most satisfying outlet for my creativity and ideas is painting, drawing...even writing this blog.

This piece is about the dichotomy that inhabits inside me, the things you can't know about me just by looking at me, those parts of myself that exist within me in the corners of my heart,the ones that show up in my paintings and that leave me feeling vulnerable and exposed when I discuss them with others.

Tagged!

OK, I was tagged last week my friend, Kathleen, whose wonderful blog is "Reflections of a Glass Artist" . She does the most beautiful glass work, please take a look at her bog because you will enjoy it. And again, I can't thank her enough for thinking of me, I'm always very flattered and at the same time humbled when someone as talented enjoys my work so much as to do this!

So, this is how it works:

1.- Link back to the person who tagged me:
Kathleen

2.-Write 5-7 unusual things about yourself (only 5 or 7???)

3.-Tag another 5-7 people.

All right, something unusual about myself...where to start? OK:

1.- I spent over 5 years of my life studying Materials Engineering (option: Polymers), until I just couldn't take it anymore and decided to switch careers. This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

2.- I studied music and played the piano for 17 years (since I was three years old), I also play the mandolin and a little bit of guitar.

3.- I love singing (I used to sing in my church) and once I had to do it in front of over 1,000 people

4.-I love animals in general: dogs, cats, birds, rodents (we have a catch and release trap for mice caught in my home), reptiles, etc. When I was little my dad and I used to walk around our block feeding leftovers to the neighborhood strays (which in Venezuela are a lot, sadly). My older dog is a street rescue from Caracas (yes, he flew here with us when we moved).

5.-I used to practice martial arts (Kung Fu), I obtained my green belt, but then a knee injury prevented me from continuing (in case you're wondering, it was not sports-related, I fell down at the beach and luxated my kneecap...ouch!)

6.- I met my soulmate in 1994, we fell in love in 1997... and we've been (happily) married since 2000.

7.- My grand father is an ear, nose, throat doctor (oto-rhino-laryngologyst, I think is the technical term in English). Ever since I can remember, every Sunday when we visited, we would watch together his surgery tapes (some intra-craneal). I'm not squeamish about blood.

Now, as for the people I'd like to tag here's my list:

1.- Jared Kelly
2.-Suzanne Berry
3.- Karen Zima
4.-Patti Murphy
5.-Mark Landes

Exciting News!!!

I just got a cal on my cell... I have an appointment at the gallery for December 2dn @ 1:30pm!!!!! (now I need to pick which pieces to take). Whatever happens, happens...but this is my first interview with a gallery, so...wish me luck!!!. Now I'm nervous, but a good nervous..They called, now it is for real. Again, wish me luck!!!

I am human, hear my voice!

"I am alone in the unexpected shriek
I emit in my flavor of darkness
to fill my solitudes with voice
and bring back to life my uninhabited self"

Excerpt from "Voice of my solitudes (I)", by Elias Nandino


Well this is the result of my last failed attempt (see previous post). I got this image stuck in my head for some reason, and couldn't let go of it. At first I didn't like his appearance, (not proportional, and I liked the preliminary drawing better) he didn't look "human" enough. But then I started thinking about what makes us human...is it our appearance? our spirit? our voices? acceptance into society by others?...our ideas?.

We all have a voice, and we all need to be heard, maybe that's one of the things that makes us human: our need to communicate, which is why it is so painful and frustrating when we cannot make ourselves heard. So, this is my representation of that primal need we all have to let our voices be taken seriously and be heard: I am human, hear my voice!

Bad, bad, bad night

Well, its 11pm and I have officially finished destroying the painting I had been working on for the last couple of weeks... it's been a while since I had such a bad night (or day for that matter) in the studio. I had this idea, inspired by a visit to Boston we did with a friend a couple of weeks ago...I can still see the image in my mind so clearly its almost painful. I did a preliminary drawing (silly me, I forgot to take pictures that day) and started painting. Finally, the background was done, the basic shapes were done... and I decided (tonight of all nights, after the horrible Monday I had) to "define this and that a little better, it's way too abstract for me...". Soon, a pencil line became an India Ink line, then a brushstroke, new shapes, glazes...complete destruction of the concept and subsequent annihilation by black acrylic paint. I could see myself ruining all those days of work, but couldn't stop!!. I'm so frustrated, I could cry. I hadn't felt like such a loser since my days at the University.

You see, I used to be an engineer (well, almost graduated, but that's too long a story). Back then, things were easy: math (2+2=4 always), chemistry (water and oil do not mix on their own) and Physics (everything that goes up, will come down... and probably hit you on the head, too, if you're not careful) they're all exact sciences. Not necessarily easy, but they are exact, absolute, they are governed by laws that will not change according to your mood, the weather or how tired you are. But art... this "Dolor Exquisito" (exquisite pain)...this need I feel to create and put things on paper or canvas, to imprint these images I see in my head...this is not an exact science at all. Beauty is not even an absolute definition! And on nights like this one, it is all too clear.

In the end, after the attack of the acrylic blob, I sprinkled some acrylic inks on the wet paint, just checked on it, and it looks promising, but not for tonight, tonight, I'm going to bed (yes, I am not afraid to admit I need a hug from my husband and a good cuddle session with both dogs). Tomorrow, I'll start all over again...wish me luck

REMEMBER TO VOTE!!!!!

Hello everyone, just a quick reminder: Today is Election Day, so don't forget to vote!!!!Otherwise, others will choose for you... and that is never good ;)

The Path

"Traveler, your footsteps
make the road and nothing more;
traveler, there is no road
you build it as you walk

As you walk you build the road
and when you turn your head
you see the path you will never
step on gain.

Traveler, there are no roads
only wakes in the sea"

Excerpt of "Traveler there is no road", by Antonio Machado.

This is one of my favorite poems by Mr. Machado, the whole poem is beautiful, but at the same time very sad. It was made into a song many years ago by Joan Manuel Serrat, and it was listening to this song that I started working on this piece. It reminded me of my life 6 years ago, before we moved here; more complicated (and less lonely) times. I like the metaphor of the path and how each one of us makes his/her own, because that's how life is, and the idea that it exists because we are willing to walk on it, until we realize how it ceases to exist once we've traveled on it...who could have said it better?. I did this piece thinking about this particular poem, it is in a way a self portrait or, should I say, auto biographical. As I begin a new period of my life, I look back at my old trail disappearing before my eyes, realizing, at the same time that I can't go home again; the only way to travel is forward.

Nerve-wrecked

OK, I did it: I applied for a gallery (I still have to wait for their call for an interview) I'm really nervous, about it. I hadn't felt this anxiety in a looooong time (University, actually). This is the part I dislike the most about doing art: being evaluated. Drives me crazy!!!!. I haven't heard from them for the interview (of course not, I only sent them the form yesterday), and I start wondering how long it's going to take to hear back from them, or if they decided to "google" me (yes, I do show up when you write my name and "art" beside it...go figure), saw my web page (or this blog, for that matter) and decided it wasn't worth their time to call me back (I know in my mind this is probably not the case, but my inner paranoid won't listen to my brain!!!). So, here I am, anxious and expecting the worst (but secretly hoping for the best)...What to do? I guess I'll go paint my anxiety away...

On a happier (and more relaxed) note, I finally got in touch with the people from Whole Children, in Hadley, MA and donated a painting (the one shown above) for a fundraiser they're having on Nov. 15th. I didn't send the other one I mentioned in a previous post (see "Donating my Art"), because they were asking for smaller pieces, around 9"x11" and that one is around 16"x20", which is much larger than they were asking for. Instead, the one I dropped off today is 10"x16" (its a monoprint on rice paper), which is closer to the size they wanted. I usually work on much larger pieces, so I only had a very few paintings to choose from...anyways, they seemed happy I was donating the piece, and that's what matters. I hope the fundraiser goes well. I'm happy I could help.

So, off I go, happy but anxious, to the studio...it's going to be a long night...

Sorting Laundry

It's been a while since I posted anything (bad Marilyn!, bad Marilyn!). Its just been a crazy last couple of months and quite frankly, I've had a ton of ideas but for some reason haven't gotten to them. This one is my older dog, Moshis ( we found him at our University campus in Caracas in Sept 1999). We were folding our clean laundry one day (on our bed, as we usually do), when all of the sudden he jumps over the piles of clothes and lands softly and cuddly in the middle, covers his nose with a t shirt and falls asleep for about an hour!! (talk about a dog's life). So, I reached for the phone, snapped a quick couple of pictures and started working!. I used acrylic inks (I'm in love with the intensity of the colors) and some pastel on watercolor paper and this was the result!. (Oh, and in case you're wondering, we had to work around him to fold the rest of the clothes).

Under the Tree of Life

I had this idea in my mind for a while, now...I just hadn't had the time to sit down and think about how to manifest my idea in a graphic way (this is always the hardest part for me always). The symbol of the tree of Life has been used in many cultures and has a variety of meanings, but in most cases it serves as a link between three worlds: Heaven, Earth and the Underworld and it is the line of balance that unites the three realms.

I painted the three figures in the bottom representing humanity, or at least those members of humanity in search of balance and integration with the world, the beads represent the wisdom that could be obtained during the search for balance and which will ultimately lead to it (I used beads as a reference to "The Glass Bead Game", by Herman Hesse, he's one of my favorite authors).

With this piece I wanted to convey a sense of reverence towards life and the world, and stress the need we have (specially right now) to achieve balance within ourselves and with the world around us.

Andante

Well...where do I begin?. This piece started as a creativity exercise. I wanted to paint something using hardware brushes (car detailing brushes, stuff like that). So, I started playing with the paint, very slowly. Once the background was done, I started looking through my drawings (yes, the ones I still haven't categorized, photographed or touched), and I found a pose very similar to this one, so I started developing, the shape, using a lot of paint and water. Finally, I used charcoal to give her a more defined outline (and features). The result is very surprising to me, because when I use this technique, I usually end up doing "nightscapes", but this time, this image appeared in my mind and slowly started to flow on the paper. I named her "Andante", because that's what it felt like while I painted her,very slow, peaceful, meditative... I guess this is a risk one runs when painting to music, right?. But I like it, because it loosens me up and helps me drown that silly little voice that keeps telling me I'm not good enough.

Classes canceled...

Well, today I was supposed to start my Figure Drawing class (third session), but instead, it got can celled due to poor enrollment!. I guess the economy caught up with us. I'm really disappointed, because I've been taking this class for a while now and not only is the instructor wonderful (Amy Burris), but the group was really beginning to become close, the models are great and it does wonders for my creativity. I have turned several of those drawings into paintings and I still have a whole bunch I need to organize (me, the eternal procrastinator...). Maybe I'll post some, maybe I'll make my husband pose for me, (wouldn't be the first time.)... although I don't know how comfortable he would be with his drawing on my blog, oh well, guess I'll find out.

So, today, I don't know what I'm going to do. I have a couple of projects, so I guess I'll work on those. I'm so disappointed...

Morning Glory

This is the first piece I finish using almost exclusively Acrylic Inks (I used a couple of specs of white pastel here and there, I must confess). I love Morning Glories, and this year we planted them right outside our door. Everyone in my hose is mesmerized by them. So, after taking a dozen pictures and watching them for a month, I decided to give it a try and this is the result!.

Counting Stars

"I count the stars one by one
because I know that all of them
are flowers that in the sky are growing for you
and thus you ascend to new heights
I'm left in the dark
but I am not afraid that's how it's supposed to be"

Chorus from a song by Caramelos de Cianuro (Cyanide Candies), called "The Stars"

I am a big fan of their music and this is one of my favorite songs, but unfortunately only had cassettes, so I eventually lost all the music I had from them. Until one day, thanks to iTunes I was able to download one of the records I had lost, which is where this song is.

I was inspired by it and this painting is the result. It's about falling in love and how the world changes around us when we find our soul mate. It took me a while to complete, because besides being a 36"X36" oil, I was working on two very different pieces at the same time: this one and "I don't want to" (the one I posted before). Not only are they different media and size but the emotional aspect of each is almost the opposite of the other. To me, my emotions are like fuel when I paint, and I need to get in the right state of mind before I start working, so I couldn't just jump from one piece to the other while it dried like I usually do, I had to wait until I "felt it". In the end, I finished both, although sometimes it felt like I was going to have to start again from scratch (wouldn't be the first time) but I did finish it and have to say this one is one of my favorites.

I don't want to

The ritual

Every day, every night
the same ritual with new noise
without scent, flavor or texture
only its blind idols.
I can't find a way to explain
to this box of illusions
that I don't need any new desires

I can hear them every night
their voices invade my dreams
without permission or excuses
they begin their nocturnal attack
and I can feel them gnawing at my bones
It keeps showing me everything I am not
I can only scream "I don't want to!"
This stupid TV set doesn't understand:
I don't need a new soul

I couple of weeks ago, someone made a comment to me (why don't you dress more femenine? or something along those lines). I am not exactly "girly", I don't wear make up, always take comfort over fashion, hate wearing clothes that look like everyone else's, I practiced martial arts instead of ballet,and yes, I'm allergic to pink (well, not really, I just don't like it). Suffice it to say that I heard a lot of "well-intentioned" criticism while I was growing up: "You should be more feminine", "you're wearing THAT???", "...but you're a girl!!"... you get the picture.So, when this person made that comment a couple of weeks ago, it brought back a lot of "memories" and reminded me of all the bombardment women are subjected to every day, since they get their first Barbie doll (I love Barbie, by the way). We are expected to look, behave and talk a certain way because we're girls, even if we don't want to.

It took me many years to be able to talk back to the world and our culture, but now I am able to feel comfortable enough in my own skin and when the world or advertisers try to make me feel inadequate asking me "why don't you...(insert you favorite cliche here)?" I can answer, politely and confidently: "Because I don't want to".

If you look at the painting up close you can read phrases I've heard my whole life (you're too tall, too fat, too smart, too loud, why don't you get lipo?, you should wear more make up, etc., etc). I wrote them in "waves", because they feel like waves knocking me out. I also wrote my response over the years (I don't want to go crazy like that, I don't want to be judged by you, I don't want to be like you) and on the right hand side it says "I don't need a new soul", because sometimes the world just makes me feel like I should change the very essence of who I am to please it, but I don't want to.

This was a very liberating piece to paint!

Eclipse

"It bewitches itself
and rests on itself
and pours and spills on itself
and over itself it rises
towards another song we cannot hear
music of music
silence and fullness
rock and tide
sleeping intensity
where sounds and shapes dream

It is the secret noon
The soul sings, facing the sky
and dreams in another song
just vibrating light
silent fullness of life"

Excerpt of "Midnight", by Octavio Paz.

Another night scene, I did this one from memory. I find his kind of painting very rewarding, meditative and peaceful...just like the night. Who knows what words are being whispered, what songs and poems being created as the magic of dreams comes alive?.

MY WEB PAGE IS DONE!!!!!

Yep, its official: my web page is fully operational, ready for people to see (and I'm officially terrified). Ari (my wonderful soul mate) finished it last night... I couldn't believe it!, I must confess, though, this feels a bit like the dream where you walk naked on a stage in front of strangers. Art is very personal to me, and it makes me feel very, very vulnerable when people see and judge it (which is why I have so much trouble applying for juried shows and galleries, I'm such a coward!!!). On the other hand, I couldn't be happier! MY WEB PAGE IS DONE!!!!!!

Into the Sea

"You leave, Alfonsina
with your solitude
what new poems
did you go looking for?
An ancient voice
made of wind and salt
shatters your soul
it is taking her away
and you are going over there
as if in a dream
asleep, Alfonsina
dressed as the sea"

From a song by Mercedes Sosa, Alphonsine and the Sea (Alfonsina y el mar)

This piece started as a monoprint which I later planned to stamp and play around with. But the more I looked at it, the more it resembled an ocean and it got me thinking about this particular song. It's a very old song , beautiful and sad, it's about a woman who loses herself in the ocean and nobody knows why. That's why I decided to add the woman's torso walking into this particular sea...nostalgic, sad, mystical, unknown. She walks into the uncharted waters for reasons no one understands, only her heart knows why.

Dancers in the dark

I started experimenting with lino cuts a while ago,however, I always used them for prints and nothing else (with less than satisfactory results), so they ended up in the back of the closet, unused, until a couple of days ago, when I had one of those "what if...?" moments and decided to use them as a complement of something else, instead of alone in a composition.

This is the result of my first experiment. I embellished the dancers a little with conte crayons, just to give them a more tridimensional feel (they were very flat), and also to introduce more contrast and make it easier to distinguish the shapes better, apart from that this is the result of (my very messy process of) monoprinting and one of my linocuts.

I must say this is the most fun I've had in a while, and it feels so good to let go and start creating something light and colorful, without thinking, judging or analyzing it. So, this is probably the first of several to come (I do have a stash of unused linoleum somewhere, waiting to be carved...).

Waiting for Peace

Well...what can I say? This was going to be a completely different painting, until...I started watching the news one morning before painting. Need I say more? Thousands of people dying in diferent parts of the world, waiting for politicians to sign an agreement, or a cease fire, or for a side to win. Meetings and meetings of international relations committees weighing the political (and of course economical) consequences of their actions...I think of Rwanda, and even worse, Darfur, Georgia, Russia, Iraq, Afghanistan (these are just the most famous conflicts right now)...we read about them in the papers and watch our 10 daily minutes of international news in CNN (before they move on to more pressing matters, like Paris Hilton's fake campain ad or which politician cheated on his wife this time). In the end, all these human beings , living in anguish and fear in a war zone become nothing more than statistics. The soldiers who give their lives are just another number to be manipulated in an election year and the dead civilians, just a number to deny. How often do we think about the suffering of those still alive?.

I don't even know if this painting is what could be considered "good", (I had my doubts about posting it) but I just had to say something. Will it make a difference? to me, it did... will it, for someone else? I don't know. But when I saw the news on CNN that morning...I just had to say something, because even if no one listens, a least I know I raised my voice.

Wanted: Inspiration

Wanted: Inspiration, new idea, or great images not afraid to live in my head. Mediocre thoughts and pessimism may not apply. Must not me afraid of over-analytical mind, paint, paper, scissors or glue. Interested? you can reach me at: artistsmind@mybrain.me.

No, I'm not stuck gain, but I do want to try a new technique, and don't know what image to try it with...I'll start tonight, with or without a specific idea of what I want., if anything, just to see what I'm capable of making up this time. What's the worst that could happen? Worst case scenario I can always repaint over it... or collage over it...or stamp it...or... Hold it!, I think I hear an idea coming. Gotta go!

Donating my art

I am really excited about this. I received a letter today from a friend who has a Gallery/ Frame shop. It was from an organization called "Whole Children", they have educational, sports and art related programs dedicated to children of all ages and all backgrounds. They want to have a fundraiser (an art raffle) and are looking for artists to donate their art. I've been wanting to do something like this for a while and when I got the email today I realized this is the charity I've been waiting for!. So, I will give them a call tomorrow and find out more about the event and what their requirements are. In the meantime, I already know which piece I want to give them (if they'll take it).

The painting above is called "Possibilities", it's an Oil Pastel, I finished it last year. I picked the image of an opening sunflower because I wanted to express an idea that had been lurking in my mind for a while.

We live in a society that's obsessed with "results", "perfection", "conventional", "normal", "expected"... So often we let opportunities go by, because they don't fit this crazy idea of adequacy in our heads!. When we walk past a flower before it opens, we usually think about how pretty the flower will be, we wonder when will it open?, how big?, but how many times do we stop to appreciate the beauty already before our eyes?. Potential can be as beautiful (or more) as the result and finding blessings in improbable places is an ability we should practice everyday. So, I chose to paint this promise of a flower, just to remind myself to look at what I have in front of me, not what I think I should or will have, and to appreciate the blessings I have received this instant, not the ones I think will or should come my way.

To live in the now and enjoy my life as it happens...sounds easy enough, but how I need to keep reminding myself everyday!

About nice pictures, bad ideas and flowers...

Beautiful flower, isn't it?. Sunflowers are one of my favorite flowers, usually the bigger the more I like them and these red ones just took my breath away!. I've been waiting all year to see them bloom again and paint a couple of them, like I did last year. So, a couple of days ago, I decided for this image, took out the pastels and got started. The problem? its not going well...I don't know if its because the paper is too small (I usually work larger pieces than this one, 10"X10") or that I haven't been able to find the "soul" of the image... probably a mixture of both. Whatever it is, its not working. So, I'm stuck in the studio layering and removing pastels for a couple of hours until my hands are all black and wrinkled and nothing comes out! That's the problem with pretty pictures: it's very easy to get lost in the beauty of the image in front of us and forget to look for what's behind the obvious... I guess I'll keep trying until something happens...

Luna

"Frozen Moon"

With this solitude
treacherous
peaceful

with this solitude
of sacred leaks
of far away howls
of monstrous silence
of firm memories
of frozen moon
of someone else's night
of eyes wide open

with this solitude
useless
empty

one can sometimes
understand
love

Mario Benedetti

Another moon, another night of contemplation, another painting. I am really enjoying this celestial subject. I was going to add more to the painting, covering part of the face of the moon, but last night I just looked at it and realized it was complete.

This piece is more about contemplation and peace than anything else, to just sit looking out a window, no music, no TV, no noise, no distractions, no one else around to talk about trivial things, just sit down quietly and enjoy what's in front of me and meditate about life. Find my center and find peace in my mind.

Transition

Appropriately enough, after all this time unable to create anything, I start working again and poof! its all about change and starting new periods in life. All the fear the expectation and the excitement associated with the moment we realize the course of our life is changing.

True, transitions can be very hard (they usually are), and we make it harder on ourselves sometimes by resisting them, but on the other hand, how could we ever evolve and grow as a person without constant change?. Most of the time the only one holding us back is our own fear.

I'm stuck

Yep, it's official: I'm stuck, out of fresh ideas, cretivity on summer break.

I haven't been able to come up with anything at all, this last couple of weeks. Nothing, zero, nada. This usually happens to me. I start working and have a very productive period, anything from a couple of weeks to a couple of months, and then, poof! my mind goes on strike for a couple of weeks!. Its so frustrating. I want to work, to create, I want to have and idea and see it clearly in my mind and watch it transform into an image on paper!. But right now, ideas feel more like noise inside my brain and all those images come out as doodles.

How long will this last? I don't know. Does this happen to other people? I don't know. What can I do about it? Wait, I guess. In the meantime, I think I'll make up my mind and enter a couple of juried shows in this area (would be my first time) and keep taking photographs, to see if inspiration strikes. Wish me luck!

Sunday Pond

Summer is here! the days are so sunny around here, its easy to forget about winter for a while. One of my favorite things is to go bike riding, I love all the fresh air, the view and let's face it, I need the exercise.

We usually ride on a bike path, this painting is based on a photograph I took of the lily pond on the path, the best part of the ride! So enjoy the sun, the beach, the long days, the ice cream and just being outside!

Tales of the lost city

I did this one a few weeks ago, I hadn't posted it because, quite frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to get political in this setting. I'm not writing this blog out of ideology, but out of love for art. That being said, something happenned yesterday that made it impossible for me not to talk about this particular piece.

I spoke to an old friend from high school yesterday who still lives in Caracas, Venezuela. Sadly, my country is going through a very rough couple of decades and things have gotten worse under the present administration (trying not to get too political, here...), a common practice in the last few years is what they call the "Express Abduction". Where hey pretty much abduct you or a member of your family for a few hours, while they take you to the bank, your house, etc to rob you of everything they can. As it turns out, my friend's baby brother (whom I've known since he was in 3rd grade) was almost abducted the night before last, as he was coming home from University. My friends (his sisters, their mother and their husbands) were upstairs in the apartment, and they heard everything. They didn't take him, but they did kidnap a neighbor, who was released later that night.

This story and many more far worse than this repeat themselves in my country every day, ever night, hundreds of times a day. Kidnappings, robberies, murder...and the sad part is that we've gotten used to it. No one in the government is doing anything, except deny the hundreds of murders that occur each weekend (they've actually forbidden relatives of the victims to give statements to the press). The only response of people when something like this happens is "well, at least they didn't kill you" (unless of course they did, in which case, you become another cautionary tale of what not to do or which places to avoid).

I'm so angry. Nobody should have to live like this!!!. So there you go, that's the story behind this painting. So, next time you area able to come safely home at whatever time of night you like and hug your family, remember to thank God (or the Powers that Be) for that privilege, and if you find it in your heart, say a prayer for the people of Venezuela, living in an undeclared war with no end in sight.

Dreams

"What is life? A frenzy
what is life? An illusion
A shadow a fabrication.
And the biggest good is small.
Your whole life is a dream
and dreams are only dreams."

Excerpt from "The rich man dreams in his wealth", by Pedro Calderon De la Barca.

What can I say about the inspiration for this piece? It is about our belief in things we think impossible when we're awake. What if our dreams were our lives and what we call dreams, our real life?.

Iris

I finished this on a couple of days ago, I was waiting for the paint to dry a little to take the picture and post it.

This is one of our plants in the front yard, the only irises on my block to bloom twice a year, in spring and fall. I took some pictures last year and had been toying with the idea of painting them (they are so delicate and voluptuous), but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to represent it faithfully. So, a year later, I took a deep breath and went for it!

I don't know why, but I do that a lot... I listen to that little nagging voice in the back of my mind ("you can't do it", "you're not good enough", "you're such a fake, who do you think you're kidding?") and chicken out. It happens when I'm thinking about submitting my work to a juried competition or a gallery, it happened before I decided to start this blog (took me months to make up my mind) and I hate it!!!.So, maybe I'll use this painting as a reminder to ignore that stupid little voice and go for it! In the end, it's just paint...I can always start over.

The Survivor

"I return with overwhelming hope
and the ghosts I took with me
and everyone's slums and the friend
that used to be here but is no more

we are all broken but whole
decimated by forgiveness and bad habits
a little more worn and wiser
older and more sincere

I return without duel and it has rained so much
in my absence in my streets in my world
that I get lost in the names and confuse
the rain with tears

I return/ I want to believe I am returning
with my best and worst history
I know this road by heart
but I still feel surprised"

Excerpt from "I want to believe I am returning", by Mario Benedetti

I believe we are all, in our own way, survivors. We all experience loss and despair in different ways (a death in the family, a near death experience, wars, illness...), we all have to confront fears one time or another and although we may come from different backgrounds and the losses and the fears are different, our response is almost the same: we adapt to survive.

This poem is about coming back from exile (Benedetti had to leave his country during the dictatorship in Uruguay), but to me, his words have always given a voice to those who have survived an ordeal (be it exile, death, disease or war) and as a result found themselves changed; not quite unrecognizable but very much unlike the person they used to be.

When I finished this piece, I couldn't help but think of this poem, the image of this being coming back from the unknown, unrecognizable, leaving behind the very thing that changed him and coming back to the world as we know it, not as a different person, but as a different version of himself. What will the road home look like through those new eyes? what does the world feel like on that new skin? how will he use his new voice, unknown to everyone, even himself? what will he see the first time he looks in the mirror? how much of himself did he leave behind? and how much of the experience that changed him is coming back with him?.

Ari's Cala

Cala lillies are one fo my husband's favorite flowers. I painted this piece fast year, as an anniversary present for him. I was looking for a way to display the flower in a more unusual view (this piece is much larger than life, about 20"X20") , play with the contrast of lights and shadows and achieve a sense of light emanating from it.

In the end he loved it, which, to me is all that matters (not only because I made it for him, but because he's one of the toughest critics I know!).

Sorrow, or the eyes of a blue dog

'I'll recognize you on the street when I see a woman writing 'Eyes of a blue dog' on the walls. And she, with a sad smile- which was already smile of surrender to the impossible, the unreachable- said: 'Yet you won't remember anything during the day'. And she put her hands back over the lamp, her features darkened by a bitter cold. 'You're the only man who doesn't remember anything of what he's dreamed after he wakes up'.

Excerpt from "Eyes of a Blue Dog", by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

This is another of my favorite pieces. Only after I finished it did I realize what it was really about: My favorite short story, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, "Eyes of a Blue Dog" (Ojos de Perro Azul, in spanish).

The story is bout a couple of soulmates who can only meet in their dreams. They cannot touch, only talk to each other. They can't even remember where they're from. When she awakes, the only thing she remembers is that he tells her she has "the eyes of a blue dog", and as she goes searching for him, she goes repeating on the street, to everyone who will listen: "Eyes of a blue dog". Him, on the other hand, although he loves her, cannot remember what he calls her when he awakes.

It's a beautiful, sad story and I've always been moved by it. For some reason, this piece makes me think about what their good-byes must have been like, right before they awoke.

Lucky Koi

This is one of my personal favorites (and the closest I am to having a koi pond in my house). It almost painted itself.

I've always loved the elegance and playfulness of the koi, they also live for many years and in eastern cultures are used as a symbol of strength (when they swim against the current of the river) and good luck, two things of which is always good to have plenty of.

Willow

I pass this tree on the way to my house almost everyday. Ever since we moved here, I've been amazed by its beauty, the color it turns in the winter and the beautiful yellow flowers during the spring, how its branches reach to the sky, like open hands, begging for sun and rain.


When we're driving home and I see it, I know I'll be home in no time; to me its almost a marker, or maybe a gentle giant, or a guardian that never fails to let me know when I'm getting close to the border between the world and the place I call home

Nocturnal

"The summer demands and takes away too much
But night, the reserved, the reticent, gives
more than it takes"

John Ashberry

I've always been attracted to night time. It has always been one of my favorite times of day. Lately, I've been working on more nocturnal pieces, such as this one. One of the reasons I enjoy doing them so much is because I am mesmerized by the interaction between light and dark. As I let them feed of each other throughout the painting I realize how these two opposing forces become dependent of each other, gaining strength from each other's intensity. In the end, I realized: you can't have light without the shadows

Mystic Moon

"There is so much solitude in that gold
the moon of these nights is not the moon
the first Adam saw. The long centuries
of human vigil have filled it
of antique cries.Look at it. It is your mirror"

Poem "The moon", by Jorge Luis Borges

A good friend of mine started doing moonscapes a while ago. She took pictures, studied it, stared at it lying on the floor and painted it ...now, every time I see a beautiful full moon somewhere, I think of her and her moons. I, too started taking pictures... and watching it, and thinking...hardly do we think of the history behind our surroundings... how many poets, painters, singer, lovers have been moved by the moon outside our window? How many people are admiring the same beauty on the same night? how many stories have been told about our moon?.

Somehow, I don't feel so alone while watching the moon from my window late at night.

Rose

One of the reasons I love painting flowers is how unique the textures and shapes of the petals are. In this particular case, the flower seemed to have its own topography; the delicate petals formed mountains and valleys within the flower, almost a private universe in my yard.

Under the gypsy moon

"Under the gypsy moon
all things are looking at her
and she can't see them"

Excerpt from "Sleepwalking Romance", by Federico Garcia Lorca.

I love Flamenco, the passion and feeling in the music and dance is intoxicating. I finished this piece yesterday. I'd been thinking about doing it for a while, and yesterday, all of the sudden, I started working and didn't stop until it was done. I'm pretty happy with it.

Dreaming in color

This is an older painting, but I love it. The subject is my (very spoiled) Labrador Retriever, Gala. One night I caught her sleeping on our bed (using a pillow) and I just couldn't help but draw her. This painting is based on that drawing, but just as I started to paint the sheets the painting started taking a life of is own, and I started using all these crazy colors (instead of the colors of the sheets).In the end, she wasn't just sleeping, she was dreaming.

Irises

They're back!!!, aren't they lovely? so delicate, so fragile and so beautiful.

Waiting for Spring

Just as spring comes to an end, I finished one of my watercolors, called "Waiting for Spring". Well, it started as a watercolor and ended as a mixed media. It all started when we trimmed on of our Forsythias and I kept some small branches, because i wanted to put them in water and see if they would bloom. Well, they did, and I liked them so much that i decided to paint them, I started with watercolor and the result was "acceptable", but then, after months of not looking at it, I discovered acrylic inks and voila!, I started glazing, accenting, playing until I was happy with it. I like the result very much, I love using intense colors, so when i found these inks I was hooked!. So, as spring ends, I decided to post it, since I won't see those crazy yellow flowers until next year.

Oblivion is full of memories

"Oblivion is full of memory"

-Mario Benedetti

This watercolor started as a means of illustrating an idea: Where do forgotten memories go?. We all have cherished memories of special times; special anniversaries, birthdays, loved ones, songs, holidays...but, what of all those day to day things we took for granted? our everyday ride to school, or the neighbor we met everyday in the elevator, all those little ingredients of routine we never pay attention to, but that in the end molded us into who we are today.All these tiny details, forgotten, ignored...like ghosts in some distant corner of our minds, waiting to be remembered, recovered...like little gems.

I found these little bottles in a tag sale one Sunday afternoon, they were just sitting there, ignored by everybody, dusty and old. Did they ever hold any treasures? some golden elixir? how long ago were they forgotten? how did they end up on a table by the side of the road, $1 for all of them? None of these questions have answers in my mind. They made me think of forgotten things, ideas, moments, people, pieces of my life. Somehow, they became the vessels where all that was forgotten was being kept; little gems inside old bottles. Will I ever get them back in their pure form?.

If I try to look at them through the glass, they are forever changed by the distortion and the color of the glass, just like time and experience, changing forever our perception of the past. Can I recover them, or are they lost forever?... and if I have lost them, have I also lost the part of myself attached to them?

First Breath

I used two of my favorite subjects for this piece: flowers and the human figure. This image invaded my mind one day, and what started as a simple line drawing took a life of its own, until it pretty much ran wild and started to paint itself on the canvas. It took quite a while to complete (over a month), in part because oil paints take a while to dry, but mostly because it's pretty big (48"X36").

This piece is about overcoming a particular difficult period of life. I like the metaphor of the lotus flower, this tiny little seed uses all the deposits at the bottom of its pool as nourishment and becomes a beautiful flower, shooting up from the bottom of darkness. I believe we can learn a thing or two from this little flower; we need to learn to overcome all the fear, pain and uncertainty we encounter in our paths, use these experiences to learn from them and to allow our spirit to grow, and as we overcome our mistakes take the final step: forgive others and more importantly, ourselves. Let go of everything and take our first breath, without fear or regrets.

This painting has a lot to do with my personal experiences, it's almost a self portrait (although I look nothing like the woman from the painting). It was after finishing this particular piece that I began doing more figurative work. The human body is capable of telling amazing stories with just one gesture and I am fascinated by the opportunity of capturing just a glimpse of that ability.

A Window Home

"I myself sometimes fear
that nothing, ever, has existed
that my memory lied,
that each time and aways
-because I have changed-
what I've lost also changes"

Liber Falco

This excerpt of Falco's poem, "What was" ("Lo que fue") always makes me think of home and all the people we left behind, friends and memories we cherished, faded memories and pieces of our lives, familiar streets, sounds and smells.

I was thinking of all this one day, the year we moved to Massachusetts. A new house, so different from what we knew!.I used to live on a 12th floor back home. One of my favorite things to do was looking out the windows at night, when all the buildings became illuminated and turned into light, when trees became a prolongation of the mountains and the city came to life and even the eternal traffic jams on the highway heading east look pretty.

I painted this watercolor from what I think I remember from those lost nights. I am not the same person who enjoyed that view, I'm older and wiser now...and I'm sure this is not an exact reproduction of Caracas' skyline at night as seen from my old apartment, cities change, they get bigger, older, more crowded...but it is how I remember it in my heart. It is my window home

My New Sky

"Another Sky"

A sponge to wash the sky does not exist
even if you could lather it
and then throw buckets of the sea
and hang it under the sun to dry
you would still miss a quiet bird

there are no methods to touch the sky
but even if you reached out like a palm tree
and manage to caress it in your deliriums
and finally found out how it feels to the touch
you would still miss the cotton cloud

a bridge to cross the sky does not exist
but even if you managed to reach the other side
through memories and prophecies
and were able to prove that it isn't that hard
you would still miss a pine tree at dusk

this is because that sky is not yours
even though it is impetuous and torn
on the other hand when you reach the one that belongs to you
you won't want to wash it touch it or cross it
but the bird the cloud and the pine tree will be there

Mario Benedetti.

With my apologies to Mr Benedetti for the translation. This is my favorite poem. It speaks to me because for many years, I tried to find what would make me happy in all the wrong places, and while I accomplished a lot academically, I was never truly happy. It took years of soul searching but I was finally ready to admit it:I was not happy. As much as I accomplished, I always felt something missing from my life... until I discovered art. It was like taking a very deep breath after being under water for longer than I can remember, and finally, the search was over:Art is my new sky.