
How important is it for art to reach the masses?
This title, How important is it for art to reach the masses?, came from a friend after we had gone to hear a talk by a famous artist. This was the question he would have asked the speaker, who spent much of the talk stating statistics on how many thousand people saw his various exhibits. The talk was largely about numbers, places his work was in, and where his work wasn't that he wished it was. The freshness of the moment was lost in looking back and wanting to capture an earlier time. It communicated more of a feeling of desperation than inspiration. It made me think about the nature of speaking on one's own "retrospective".

Diving into the Wreck
Diving into the wreck is from a poem by Adrienne Rich. I find diving a necessary, and often inconvenient, part of being a maker.
For example, right now I am in the middle of big paintings, medium-sized paintings and small paintings, and various sketchbook studies. Everything is out: Watercolor, acrylics, ink, house paint, and oils. I have dreams of swimming laps with layers and layers of clothes on, and how slow and heavy it feels! There are moments of illumination in my studio, but I am burdened with all these unnecessary and heavy clothes. My dream illuminates those familiar mind struggles: This isn't working! What about some cadmium red? Is this finished? Shall I change my vocation? What about becoming a private eye?

How to Inspire Your Art When You Are Not Making It
We have all had the experience of needing to step back from our work– to get a fresh perspective, and I am thinking again how valuable it is to be around art and artists– and discovering new artists. I have been on a retreat at St Meinrad Archabbey. When I first arrived I felt I was in the story "Beauty and the Beast", when she wakes to find herself alone in a castle, and the table is adorned with fresh flowers, a large bowl of fruit and a fine bottle of pinot noir. The "guest house" has porches all around, looking out to the woods. The reason I am here is by invitation of Brother Martin, the artist in residence– and my need for some solitude.

Chance Images
I first discovered the phrase Chance Images in Brice Marden's book called "Letters". He is a contemporary painter influenced by Asian calligraphy. He discovered chance images in Leonardo da Vinci's Notebooks. Leonardo describes his practice of contemplating abstract forms– in the changing surface of water, the pattern on an old wall, the markings on a shell- and how formlessness can become a trigger for imagery, for renewal of creativity.

Ways to Get Unstuck
Anything worth pursuing is worth failing at. –Father Greg Boyle
Sometimes we forget that being stuck, being out of ideas, or unhappy with what we are making– is a part of the process that leads to a breakthrough. We wouldn't have a breakthrough if there was no barrier!
Here are some things that are helping me break through:

Some Questions Worth Wondering
One advantage of meeting up with other makers in a friendly atmosphere, at lunch or in a workshop– is that we can rediscover that we really are all in the same boat– that none of us, no matter how accomplished, are in a sublime world where paintings appear out of nowhere– (well, rarely, but not until one has been working for a long time).
Today I am thinking about some questions that work for me when I am struggling in my studio– but I begin by vanquishing this question:
What will people think?
Under a Spell
I have long wondered at the ability for writing, (and by this I mean on paper with a tool in my hand) to put me under a spell. Above I am working with variations of a short poem by Antonio Machado. Even the words of the poem, without knowing the meaning, have a trance quality: everyone who moves on walks like Jesus, on the sea.

Creativity and Boredom
When someone says: Boring! –it is a one word sentence (usually uttered with both syllables drawn out in a singsong voice) that immediately dismisses whatever came before. From this perspective, saying that something is boring is a condemnation. Boredom is a state of mind to be avoided.
I am going to offer an alternate view for makers: boredom as a door into depth, insight and manifestation.

Spontaneity and Improvisation
I am teaching two day classes at our local art store. In spite of my initial resistance to the cramped quarters and short time frame, it is rewarding. I leave with a full heart from the students that show up and the generosity of Preston Arts. It is a community art store run by artists, and owned by a man who strongly resembles Mr. Rogers (one of my heroes). There is the coffee and danishes all set up for us each morning, with a warm greeting from Mr. Rogers at the beginning of class, and handwritten signs and class lists that could be from the 1950's.*

Wandering
As many of you know, Steven and I have designated "Sabbatical Sundays" as the day we turn off our cell phones and computers, and find another way to enter the day. As much as I love solitude, it is curious to see the extent to which my mind is captured by the impulse to check this or that on my gadgets– fingers and a mind that resist being still. You could say that these Sundays are a kind of mind experiment. One Sunday Steven woke up and said "Let's go east!" This is the day of the week we often get in the car and head out on adventures without the advantage of GPS– and both of us having a tendency to get lost. So without any plan, we left before breakfast and drove through the rolling hills of central Kentucky. I was captured by all the old tobacco barns with the "hex" signs.