jean houston

Writing this from work, so I'll have to add links later. For some reason, the Mac at the office won't allow me to create links.
Last night I went to a free lecture by Jean Houston at the Westside Y. I've heard so much about her over the years, but never had the opportunity, and to be honest, her workshops are bloody unaffordable for me.
She is a larger than life personality. Very dramatic. Exciting and enticing. Her talk was about Social Artistry which is a spiritual/mythic approach to addressing the multudinous wounds of the world.
What I love about a lecture like this, is that it appeals to a higher mind, intellectually. This isn't a Dummie's Guide to anything. Although Houston admitted to having studied The Dummies Guide to Magic recently while recovering from pneumonia in bed for seven weeks. And that's a testament to her energy force, I suppose. I am left wondering why anyone recovering from pneumonia would take up a new hobby, but at the same time, totally understand that some people are truly driven. Houston referred to this sense of urgency, as having the hounds of heaven at one's heels.
It's thrilling to be in a not-too large room, with a human being who is so profound and passionate. Admittedly, despite the fact that this woman's life work is in helping others be of service to humanity, and is herself, her speech is loaded with references to her many accomplishments. So she seemingly has a huge ego to match her personality. But she is a story teller who keeps you rapt, whether she is telling her own, or that of indigenous cultures.
One of the things she told us was that she made a decision a long time ago to offer her services free 6 to 9 times for every honorarium she receives. This allows her to work in ghettos, and I imagine to give free lectures like this one.
It's a bit shocking that the room and the attendance was so small. This is a woman who worked with Margaret Meade for many years, and is a contemporary of Joseph Campbell (she mentioned others, who I'm not as familiar with).
Apparently Hillary Clinton adores her. And Berstein of Woodward and Bernstein fame is after her - which she's not happy about because she likes to stay under the radar in a way that allows her to do the work she does without anyone getting too upset about it.
She was in town working with youth at the UN, striving for new paradigms of communication and conflict resolution. And she told a touching story of an Israeli and Hamas girl who were able to connect and communicate with one another through belly dance where they could not in words. A story that harkened back to one she told earlier in the evening of an indigenous African? tribe which she was sent to study by Meade, that had no history of violence or conflict. It was not that they were without problems, but when a problem arose, it was resolved in dance, by the entire community. They danced the problem. They danced the solution.

work in progress

Since the first week in January I have been documenting the disintegration of nail polish on my toes as a metaphor for impermanence. The idea for the project came from two of the practices I practice: chanting and meditation. With a little bit of commerce mixed in.
I've made a living for most of my life as a beauty writer. So it was a bit of an augury one day to notice that the toe nail polish I'd been allowing to wear away was a symbol of my adult life, and life in general. The more I devote to art, the less attached I am to earning a living as a writer. This wearing away of attachment is not unlike the Zen concept of Ren Ma, or polishing. The two seem sister concepts.
So that's what the pics above are all about. Just a glimpse at what I hope will one day be a full exhibition. It's been just over 3 months and the polish isn't completely worn away. I give it another month or two until the nails are pristine and polish-free.
And I think I will start the project all over again. What I've discovered is that in documenting the disappearance of color, my life is in the background, literally.
And, that the feet or toes become somewhat personified. The photos become portraits.

woodstock art

Drove over to Woodstock last night for Marlen Wiedenbaum's opening at The Woodstock Artists Association. I don't get over to Woodstock as much as I'd like and when I do, I kind of wish I were still a shopper. It would be nice to wander around town more. But, I don't shop because I don't want to spend money on things I just don't need. And I hate the temptation created. So I avoid it like the plague. Window shopping just hold much interest for me. I'd rather look at art.
And Marlene's was well worth the drive. Her pastels are gorgeous. Most of them regional, many of Minnewaska , but some of Italy and other foreign locales. Lots of stone, water and woods. Plus a teapot series which apparently started as a study of shapes and became a psychological window into the people behind the teapots -- those who loaned or gave them as gifts to the artist.
I have to say, I've never been a huge fan of the classics: painting, drawing, sculpture. In their classic forms. But artists like Marlene crack my head and heart open. I've often said I am most changed by the art I initially like the least. It not only grows on me, but makes me grow. I have enormous admiration for the skill and patience it takes to do this sort of work. And probably, I am a bit jealous. My eyes see differently; I am not a realist in any sense of the word.
I remember speaking with Marlene a year or so ago, at a time when she was just scaling back her job obligations to devote herself more fully to her art. At that time she seemed a bit apprehensive. But at the opening she was beaming. There were quite a few red dots, indicating that work had sold. And when I spoke with her she said she'd been able to spend about 4 months totally absorbed in her painting -- but also works as a freelance graphic designer.
Most artists have to work to earn a living. Not necessarily full time. But creatively. I'm one of the most optomistic people I know. And I do believe that you can earn a living full time from your art. But realistically, unless you've got someone else paying the bills, the health insurance, etc. it's difficult to make the jump. Not impossible. Just not always the most plausible thing in the world. And what's important at the end of the day as far as I'm concerned is that we live as artists and work as artists, whether we've got to hold down a job other than our art or not.
I'm not a big fan of the art marketing trend that claims we can all be financially successful artists if only we create business plans and network properly and hand out our business cards every chance we get. For those of us who have worked in business for many years before returning to our art, the cookie cutter approach is annoying at best. And it smacks of exactly the same kind of corporate mumbo jumbo we are trying to get away from. I am personally more interested in ideas than in commerce. When we dedicate ourselves to the true things we are blessed and born to do, our lives are our riches.
Addendum: I ran across this link while arts surfing and thought it was relevant to what I'd written above about artists working for a living.

drawing on life

I've started drawing again. Prompted by Danny Gregory's blog, Everyday Matters. Another practice on the path. I am trying to draw at least once a week. Every day for me just would be too much pressure. I don't need another "to do" on my list. I want to enjoy my practices, find solace and meaning in them. Discipline is important, but don't need another taskmaster. I meditate. I study karate. I chant. I make art. And now I draw. These should be enough practices for a life time of discovery. Each one brings a little something new to the path and the process. But my biggest quest is still, stillness. And if I don't have enough of that, none of the other practices are worth a moment's attention. It's out of the stilliness that all else is born. Just talking about it calms me down.
I was headed for a rant about sitting in an office all day when I would rather be home working on my art. But just writing a bit about these practices brings their gifts into the moment even though I am not officially practicing. Could blogging be a practice? I imagine it could. And perhpas if I considered it as such, I would get to it more often.

from the art of new york mardi gras gala

Last night was the Mardi Gras bash for From the Art of New York, an art auction to benefit the Gulf Coast.
It was a lovely event. Great people, great food. And hopefully, great fundraising. Above, just a few pics, which will have to stand in for words. As I'm feeling a bit speechless today.
The website seems already to have been taken off line, which seems odd to me. But I guess these things are over when they are over. (ADDENDUM: The website is still up; must have had some technical difficulty on one end or the other. Google, From the Art of New York - I'm blogging from work and can't make links from the Mac.)
I don't believe my work got any bids unfortunately, but I heard that Cue, the art gallery and foundation, would be creating some kind of permanent exhibition for whatever work had not sold, in hopes of continuing attention and fundraising.