An Elephant in My Closet

For the past two years I have done little art-making. First came the distraction of writing SEED OF IMAGINATION, An Ancestral Creative Journey followed by prepping for and doing the inaugural exhibition of Celebrating Our Maiden Migrations. Publishing SEED took more time than anticipated, as did promotion for a Eugene book release event and editing a video narration of Maiden Migrations. (Check out Celebrating Our Maiden Migrations on You Tube.)

Trying to get back to making art prompted a series of false starts: a class in Gelli printmaking and chasing screwball ideas like designing tee shirts and creating a deck of oracle cards based on our ancestral journey. But the magic of getting back to my deep creative work on human migration didn't happen until I cleaned the studio closet.

CLOSET MAGIC

Poking among closet shelves, I came across the four 'feet' of a Joyous Elephant stick sculpture I had begun in March 2019 with the help of my friend Kathleen. Following my instruction she had painted oatmeal boxes, added toes and soles, but was hesitant to do the spirals I wanted on their tops. Knowing exactly what the next step on the feet was, I also pulled out ribbon and bells procured for the elephant's 'saddle' and an ear I had made while she painted the stick.

I haven't decided which color stone works better on the feet.

In progress - sewing bells to saddle ribbons.

Trying to decide what to have on ear backs.

A DYSFUNCTIONAL MESS

The elephant stick was the last piece I was working on before getting totally sidetracked. Working on it reminded me of four boards I had begun over two years previously for migration into the Mediterranean region. Pulling them from under a table, I realized they needed to hang on a wall in order to work with them as a whole. 

I vaguely remembered deciding the region was to be anchored by three Mediterranean goddess tiles I had painted around 1999. My choice for a work wall required moving a painting from there to the bedroom, getting tiles from the downstairs bathroom, and ... chaos ensued. 

The studio was a dysfunctional mess. Projects were everywhere: elephant feet/saddle/ear, Mediterranean boards, tee shirts, oracle card resources, workshop ides, current dream mandala, etc. Working on one required shifting everything. Moreover, where was the Mediterranean sketchbook I began way back whenever? Dang! Either organize all these projects or perish in the confusion.

A few Migrations paintings serve to bring creative energy back into my work space.

Oracle cards, workshop ideas, tee shirts, Goddess and Mediterranean research.

In progress Dream Mandala found a space on top of paint cubicles.

Mediterranean Work Commences

Mediterranean complex, elephant corner, window and table work spaces.

Oops. After attaching hanging wires to the Mediterranean boards, I put them on the wall only to discover the spacing was wrong and two of the boards were upside down. To sort this out, I needed my maps and tracings. Where are they? And where is my original sketch?

Another plunge into the closet and sorting through all my paper rolls produced desired maps and tracings, resulting in even greater irritation about misplacing my Mediterranean sketchbook. I started a new one.

Upside down and poorly spaced boards.

While preparing for an interview to promote the book release event I pulled out my Assisi artist residency sketchbook. Voila! The Mediterranean! After returning from Spain in 2017, I had decided to use the voluminous Italy sketchbook for the region I researched in 2014. Of course!

Inside was the sketch I remembered making. Goddesses and Mediterranean Sea were to be dominant features. Paraphernalia collected in the sketchbook brought memories of traveling in Italy, especially Sicily, to the surface of my brain. Pieces scattered over years of ups and downs started to come together. An interminable prelude was ending - finally - a beginning.

The Mediterranean configuration and reference materials started talking to me, but not loudly enough. I got distracted by signing up for a two-week short story writing challenge, the result of which was rediscovering that I am not a fiction writer. Back to the studio where I belong! 

Spacing may still not be right, but it's better. Maps are for reference only.

Although it's true that some things have to incubate for a long time, not knowing what to do can also be a factor in continually putting something on the back burner. One reason it took so long to get back to a project begun six years earlier was because it would require relearning basic painting skills: mixing paints, choosing brushes, making mistakes. I was avoiding the embarrassment of beginner's mind.

Enter one of my cardinal rules, "Start with what you know." If the sea is to be the focus, then start by putting in its boundaries. In the process of doing that first step, a color pallet has begun to emerge. Ideas for textural materials are bubbling up.

My love affair with Mediterranean culture has deep roots. In addition to five years living in Europe and studying ancient goddesses in the 1990s, the Mediterranean was traversed extensively by my paternal ancestors and to a lesser degree by my maternal progenitors.

It took an elephant in my closet to bring me home to a life work.