Blue paint on my foot -- and loving "my" beach

 

 Tide coming in by the farm

Acrylic on birch panel

5 x 7 inches

Barbara Muir © 2014

I had to dress up yesterday in a dress and stockings
to go and teach a class.  And that's when I noticed
dark blue paint in a splashy stripe on my foot.
Not a big deal in the current environment.  Everyone
has body paint and tattoos.  But a happy symbol
to me of being back in my Toronto studio where
space is tight and my concentration so intense when
I paint that I forgot a brush fell on my foot.

Tonight's painting is another view of the beach
and coastline, where I have spent part of my summers
for 20 years.  This landscape is part of my psyche.
It belongs to me.  In the words of one of the
characters in the Joshilyn Jackson novels we
listened to full time in the car out east. "Mine!"  She
even writes about a baby who wants the ocean in
A Grown Up Kind of Pretty.

On one of my old Louise Hay audiobooks,
(I don't know which one), she talked about
enjoying other people's good fortune, beautiful
houses, every kind of luxury, and she said,
"we never really own anything, it is only on
loan to us."  I loved that idea, because of course
it's true.

You are not allowed to claim the beach in
 front of your cottage as private in Nova
Scotia where we walk on the beach.
My school house is a 25 minute car ride
from the beach. I don't own that beach,
but my eyes, heart, memory and spirit own
 it inside out.

Market flowers, and peaches.

Starting to prep for the long winter.

I miss it but love Toronto too.  We went to the
market today, and came home laden with
peaches and flowers.  I thought of my friend
Flora, in Bear River, who grows a huge garden,
cans and freezes endless amounts of veggies and
fruits and paints giant, gorgeous paintings.  My
admiration for all that energy knows no bounds.

Have a loving-the-places-you-own day.

Homesick and a friend's gift

 Clouds over the bay

Acrylic on archival canvas board

6 x 6 inches

Barbara Muir © 2014

Our first week back in Toronto is always
a rough one.  It's hard not to miss the Maritimes,
and even the drive from Pugwash to Toronto
through Fredericton, Quebec City and Montreal.
Canada you are beautiful, and if you've never
been here, this is a drive that will dazzle you.

A few months ago a friend I met through
FaceBook asked for someone to write her
each day saying that they had meditated.
I agreed without thinking -- my motive
being to "help out with a project."  Ha!
I committed to 5 minutes a day, for one
month.  We reported faithfully to one
another daily for 3 months.  The result is
that I am doing guided meditations from the
Internet for between 15 and 25 minutes a
day.

The formal reporting is over, but during the
process I have gained a wonderful friendship,
and a habit that is changing my life.

Here's the list of benefits of meditating I
sent to her.

1.  I can now relax with greater ease, much more
 quickly than I could before.

2.  I've always believed in the power of the
mind, but I've been blown away by the power
of the breath to calm the body and the mind.

3. I care about being positive, but meditation has
helped me tap into the well of positive
thought I have inside me, and to stay in the positive,
even when circumstances or people are hard.

4.  I've learned the importance of daily dedication
 to my own peace of mind.

5. I've re-affirmed the importance of a concerned
 and encouraging friend when starting a new activity.
My friend's interest, suggestions, and dedication,
and strength of purpose have meant the world to me.

6. I've been so impressed with how a small amount
 of time -- anywhere between 5 and 30 minutes can
 change the tenor of a day, increase my energy.

7. I've connected with the infinite possibilities available,
when I do want to meditate.  Understanding that I could
never explore all of the wonderful guided meditations,
audio meditations and meditation scripts available through
 the internet has given me a clear and impressive
example of the bounty of the universe.

8. Words have always mattered to me.  I have
written guided visualization scripts, and shared
them with groups of people,  but I am hyperconscious
of the destructive nature of negative words right now.
That doesn't mean I don't think and speak negatively,
it means that I instantly recognize that I want to stop
when I do now.  Plus I can move away from other
people's negative words more easily now -- just
deciding that that's their issue, not mine.

9. I am lighter in spirit, even more connected to
the beauty of the planet, than ever before.

10. I have always been a happy person, but I am
 easily 1,000 times happier than ever before.

So thank you so much.

Maybe your life is idyllic and you don't need
meditation.  But I think it's good for artists to be
able to unwind. Our job involves the potential
for over the moon excitement, coupled with
stage fright and anxiety.  I am endlessly
grateful to my friend for inspiring me to take
this on, and make it part of my day.

Have a thanking-a-friend-day.

Visiting Bear River and Annapolis Royal -- plus Give Out Love

 

 With Flora Doehler in her studio in Bear River

This has been a meaningful year for me.  My
mother's death last October seems to have
taught me so much.  One thing I realized is
that the whole of life is very short, and
altogether there is not a lot of time to give
out love.  This idea lodged in my brain and
my heart, and I know in some ways it has
always been part of my belief system.

We were in Annapolis Royal, Nova Scotia,
on the weekend.  This way of living -- being kind,
thoughtful and caring about other people -- seems
 integral to how Nova Scotians live.

Flora with one of her favorite paintings

not named yet.  It is 36 x 48 inches.

Our friends Flora Doehler and Larry Knox
have a place in Bear River, not far from
Annapolis Royal, and when we
are in Nova Scotia we make a point of
visiting them, and seeing the work they're
doing in their studio.  Kindness could be
the Doehler/Knox's middle name, and
Saturday we were treated to a studio tour,
a superb lunch, and delicious dinner.  Plus
they are funny, and fun and we had a
great time.

Larry Knox with some of his jewelry.

Larry and Flora share the studio on their

land in Bear River.

Artists are extremely lucky it seems to me,
because they work in response to strong
emotion.  What gives them pleasure goes
from the landscape, still life, or people
right onto the canvas, or paper, or sculpture
or film. Flora's canvasses and Larry's jewelry
express a love of life that is infectious.
Giving out love is a big part of what they
make.

Have a giving-out-love day.

Watch out for fruit in the studio!

 

 Studio cherries

Acrylic on cradled birch panel

5 x 7 inches

Barbara Muir © 2014

Fruit in the studio can seem like a good
idea.  You want a snack, you want to be
healthy.  You've been working on this
large, important painting for some time.
Fair enough.

But be wary.  To an artist fruit is one of
the most attractive subjects possible.  It
is dazzling, seems so perfect, simple -- why
not paint it?  And there you are -- distracted
and entranced, and before you know it you
are starting a painting, photographing the
fruit (because you do end up eating it), and
fruit has won again.  Another case of trick
the artist.

You might want to think of unattractive snacks.
I can't think of one right off the top, but give it
a try.

We are in Nova Scotia, in the large school house
studio.  I wish you could see the views we see
every day, just driving around.  Speaking of
distractions, Nova Scotia offers nothing but.
The people are lovely and kind, and funny.
The views are breathtaking, and the food
wonderful.

Clouds over farmland

Near Pugwash, Nova Scotia

Barbara Muir © 2014

Have a watching-out-for-and-then-eating-fruit day.

On the road and still painting

 Summer welcome bouquet

Acrylic on birch panel

5 x 7 inches

Barbara Muir © 2014

We're in the Nova Scotia studio now, and have
been under the weather literally and figuratively
for a week.  It's a thousand mile journey, and
not only did it rain the whole way, but Steven
and I were also sick with a horrific cold and
cough.  We had two doctors visit the house
a few days apart before we left to make sure
we were good to go, although we felt like
pure garbage (you know the organic kind).
Essentially both doctors said, "Merp," or
"Meh" -- meaning not impressive illness
and sure we could travel.

So here we are.  A little worse for wear, but
valiant.  Nothing that two weeks of solid
sleep wouldn't cure.  Instead I worked on this
little painting today.  My dear friend Paula
up the road left a beautiful bouquet from
her garden as a welcome. Arriving late at
night in the dark after a long day in the car,
tired to the bone, seeing these pretty
flowers on the table cheered me up so much.
Paula is one of the kindest and most
thoughtful people I know.

Have a thanking-the-people-who-care
-about-you day

The Skylight Diner -- and the last strawberry

 Breakfast at the Skylight Diner, NYC

Acrylic on canvas

30 x 30 inches

Barbara Muir © 2014

In May this year in New York City I had a
romantic breakfast with my husband at
The Skylight Diner.  We might have spent
an hour in the restaurant, eating this fabulous
meal, drinking cups of coffee planning the day.
Which is where painting captures the real zen
of time.  Because it has taken me the better part
of a month to paint that moment.

I've been thinking about why, and I think it
has to do with love.  I usually paint people,
but when I paint still life or landscapes,
you can bet people made that vision stay
bound in my heart and brain, and determined
to hold it.  And that was a day when I loved
my husband, the meal, New York City, exhibiting
there, and our long taxi ride from the diner to
The Cloisters.

I am sure I've painted strawberries before.
I don't care if you've seen 100 movies
about art and obsession -- you
don't get it, until you sit down in front
of a painting that is maybe an hour away
from done, and you must finish.

Now that's when the creative spirit needs
to call on determination and grit to come
to the studio party.  Can I go for a break?
Yes!  On the clock -- five minutes, maybe
ten and then you get back in here.  That's
willpower talking, and logic. 

These strawberries decided to be center
stage, as they so often are, and that required
focus.  They aren't the whole story, but they
are delicious.  On the spring morning in New
York City when I ate them I was as happy as
can be.  Now hold onto that feeling -- ahhh.
That's it.  Here's your picture -- strawberries
and all.

Have a finishing-the-berries-on-your-plate day.
P.S.  I may change something minor tomorrow,
but I could not go to bed without sharing this
with you.

The happy place of art

 Miriam's parents

Acrylic on canvas

30 x 30

Barbara Muir © 2005

(To see a clearer version of this --

I took it with my phone --

click here.)

Today I had coffee with some friends in my
neighbourhood.  We are for the most part
the mothers (and some fathers) of children who
long ago were in a school called Cherrywood.
That school was an alternative school in the
school across the street from my house.

I love getting together with these people I've
known since my oldest was in kindergarten.
As Christopher (my older son) is happily
married now and making a living as
a cinematographer, that's quite a while.  We share each
others joys and sorrows, and help and encourage
one another.  Pretty wonderful.  Plus many people
in the community come to my shows and own my
art.

So it was a great pleasure to see my painting of
my friend's parents on the wall, and to be pleased
with the tender love that it expresses.

Roberta and Miriam's garden

Outside the garden was spectacular, especially happy
with our cold winter and very temperate summer (not
at all like Toronto which is normally roasting at this
time of year.) A happy, happy morning.

Have a loving-your-friends day.