A Little Imagination and a Pile of Junk

dangly things

When I first started getting serious about my art, I was a major hoarder. I had miles and miles of patterned papers, drawers full of ribbons & trim, baskets overflowing with interesting found objects, and cabinets stacked with paintable boxes, trays, birdhouses, etc. that I planned to get around to...someday. Not surprisingly, that day rarely came and I was buried under so much stuff I barely had room to create. If I'm totally honest, much of my creative time was spent buying and collecting, not making.

And then I just got sick of it. Sick of spending way more money than I made. Sick of keeping up with the latest and greatest. Sick of never having enough space for it all. Sick of never even using my favorite things because I was too afraid of ruining them. It was absolute craziness! So I got rid of it all. Well, not everything, obviously, but most of it. It was way more painful than it should have been, but also--as it usually is with downsizing--so liberating!

These days I don't collect art supplies. I make and collect art. I buy what I need and then take it home and use it. I will never go back to hoarding. Except for...well...just this one little thing.

Three years ago, before we moved to Colorado, we traveled to Portland, Oregon, to visit friends and see if it might possibly be our new home. We fell in love with the city (not so much the grey sky and rain), and I was especially enamored with the Cargo store downtown. Just thinking about it now makes me a little giddy and light headed. I promptly went home and began collecting bits and pieces of brightly colored goodness to recreate Cargo at home. Eventually, those wonderful dangly things were carried with me to Colorado, and there they sat. Needless to say, I loved but never used any of it. Until now.

Finally, in the name of Lawn Art, I have broken free of my last hoarding tendency and am digging those babies out of their dusty drawers and boxes and bringing them into the light of day--so I can enjoy them, for goodness sake, instead of just storing them for someday.

These are some of my most favorite things. Who knows why? The heart loves what it will. Years ago, I learned from LK Ludwig to use, and not hoard, those most precious of objects in my art. She promised that the art would be all the more special for it, and she was right. I love my boxes of pretty things that remind me of a wonderful trip, but I will love sitting on my back porch enjoying my lawn art more.

etsy update

Books are a uniquely portable magic. ― Stephen King

There are now 3 new fabulous art journals in my Etsy Shop, full of potential and anxiously awaiting their new homes. What will become of their temporarily pristine pages? Only you can say.

Check out the details and see more pictures here. If you are looking for a specific kind of journal that you don't see or a style of book that I've made in the past, please let me know. Custom orders are always welcome!

work in progress

inspiring places: the cafe

Last week my mother in law was in town for a visit, and that means time to celebrate! My husband is amazing at coming up with cool places to see and fun things to do, so not a minute was wasted. We rode the light rail and took in a Colorado Rockies game for Soren's eleventh birthday, drove through the mountains and devoured some Honey-Stung Fried Chicken (doesn't that just sound amazing?) at one of my favorite mountain restaurants, the Dog Bar & Grill, relaxed and enjoyed a (few) cold beers and dinner on our back patio, and even squeezed in a long-overdue and thoroughly perfect date night.

To be sure, there were plenty of surprises over the week including my son throwing up repeatedly in the car on the way home from the airport (always happens when we keep him up too late)--that was fun--and arriving in Denver for the game only to realize I (me, not my husband) left the tickets back at home. But even the snap cold spell and gloomy skies on our last day together turned into beautiful snow for a mountain drive, bringing out wild turkeys and deer for us to ooh and aah over. We even saw a herd of elk running up the side of the mountain! It was like a gift, just for us.

But as fun as our outings always are, it is usually the simple things I remember and enjoy the most: sitting on the porch and talking, laughing our heads off over baby videos, just being together.

On Monday, the day before my mother in law was to return home, we went for a drive up the Highway of Legends towards San Isabel National Forest. Along the way, we stopped in the quaint little town of Trinidad for coffee. Besides being a coffee-snob and avoiding Starbucks at all costs, my husband always seeks out the unusual and off the beaten path places to stop for food or other refreshment. So, we found ourselves at the most adorable little downtown cafe for cappuccino and cookies. Peeling paint, exposed brick walls, mini-chandeliers, marble table tops and cheery flowers in rusted vases...every detail was perfect and so inspiring!

Without fail, it is always the unexpected details that make the everyday spectacular. And inspiring places are always the most fun shared with people you love.

the studio - up close and personal

Just a few more pictures of the studio, with some of my favorite details.

Crochet star flowers with ends still dangling; painted beads brought back by my bff from Hawaii; sewn together, spray-painted paper scraps; rejected, but still pretty, paint swatches; Prismacolor colored pencils my dad bought me in high school; painted cardboard--no great works of art, but still fun.

Remains of the Day journals; a painted tin bird from Mexico; and a postcard of one of my favorite Shepard Fairey designs.

Mailart from Mary Ann, Randi and other beautiful artist friends; sparkly yarn from a dear friend, too precious to use on any but the most special projects; exquisite watercolor ATC on an ingenius bent fork stand.

Shelf full of more glorious art journals.


Little treasures; amazing abstracts that, no matter how long I stare at them, continue to boggle my puny little mind; long-neglected Zumi camera case; gifted journal made for me by my bff.

Some of my favorite (and most recently purchased) art books; moleskine journals; can't-create-without brushes in a little hand-painted vase from Garcia's in Matamoros, Mexico; paint swatch for the last unpainted wall in the studio; headphones for listening to podcasts on my phone.

More cardboard cityscapes; calendar for planning my days; tin of treasured ATCs; view of all the projects we need to finish in the backyard.

Canvases in progress; painted wood to be hung in the yard; joyful paint splatters, evidence of good work and fun times.

Older, but still loved, painted fabric wall hanging and pillow-cover turned art quilt.

Linda Naiman said, "When we engage in what we are naturally suited to do, our work takes on the quality of play and it is play that stimulates creativity." I have no idea who Linda Naiman is, I pulled her quote off the Internet, but she's a wise woman. My studio is - above all - a place to play, and there is for me no greater motivator or creative inspiration than having fun with art.

spring studio tour (moth free version)

Just when I was starting to get productive, John, both kids and I get stuck with the flu all at the same time. Ugh. As if that weren't terrible enough, I returned to my studio to find it overtaken with hundreds of miller moths. So all day Saturday was spent gleefully sucking up moths into my vacuum canister, deep cleaning, touching up paint and organizing. Now that (most) everything is clean and clutter-free, I thought I'd give you a little tour inside the studio, to go along with showing off the newly painted outside.

When we found this house the summer before last, it was the central location, the fact that it didn't need any updating and the studio out back that sold me at first sight. Since my studio is also our school room, there are always stacks of books, piles of papers, overflowing boxes of craft supplies and ongoing projects of mine and the kids spilling over and collecting dust. We have fun in this little room. We work and play, create and dream here. So, just know, on any given day it is never as neat and tidy as these pictures suggest. But that's ok, because where there is life, there is bound to be clutter.

My desk, with everything necessary and inspirational within easy reach. The most important objects on this desk: my journal, bag of pens and ipod/docking station. There is no creative spark apart from my music.

Inspiration boards, sewing machine, paints, brushes and journals waiting to be bound.

Shelves of my favorite artist books, journals and mailart. Pretty little things I can't imagine living without. Most frequently used object on this side of the desk: the heat gun. I haven't embossed anything in ages, but it dries my paint in a snap and keeps the creativity flowing without having to wait for paint to dry.

Paintings in progress, blank canvases waiting for their turn to shine, beautiful stacks of beloved fabrics; there are even some burlap coffee bags tucked snuggly in there. This past Christmas I treated myself to a brand new easel; the old one was so rickety I had to hold onto the canvas as I painted to keep it from crashing to the floor. Never again!

Rolls of oilcloth, extra bottles of paint, boxes of patterned papers and abandoned art projects. And on the table, piles of goodies for my newest obsession: lawn art. More on that soon!

And just so you know I wasn't blowing smoke about the messes we make in here on a daily basis: the school bookshelf with the kids's artwork and seedlings waiting patiently til after Mother's Day for their time in the sun.

The studio is by far my favorite part of our home. The color, the imagination, the life in this room rarely fails to pick me up out of whatever slump I find myself in and give me hope again. It is where I belong, where I can be myself; my refuge and my escape. I worked for years on a reclaimed kitchen table in the corner of my living room and then for another couple in a dirty and ventless laundry room I could finally call my own. I am beyond blessed to have a husband who supports me and my work enough to buy me a home that leaves him without so much as a garage or basement for his own things, but thrills me every day with a beautiful space to spread my wings and create to my heart's content. I've said it before and I'll say it again: whether it is a TV tray or a closet, if you are serious about your art, you need your own space. To collect and display beautiful things that inspire you, to feel free to make a mess and not have to clean it all up afterwards, to dream big and live artistically. Why not carve out your own little creative niche right now, today? It could just change everything.

new life in color

It's that time of year when I start feeling the urge for some spring decorating--the rebellious sister of spring cleaning. About twice a year I find my brain overflowing with crafty DIY ideas: in the fall approaching the holidays and then again when the air begins to warm in the spring. Spring craftiness begins innocently enough with, "I can't wait to get outside and start planting!" and usually spins out of control somewhere around, "I hate my house and everything in it needs to be thrown in the trash!"

Recently, a very generous friend gave me a huge storage container full of house paint, and blues, greens, lavender and yellow have been on my mind ever since. But now I've finally gotten around to putting these wonderful colors to use in my backyard. We live on a busy city street so our narrow, but peaceful, backyard is both our retreat and my canvas. It is also the home of my now more colorful art studio.

It still has a ways to go. I am imagining yard art covering the outside studio walls and lining the old fence. Maybe even a little welcoming studio sign, too. See my blue flowers on the red doors? Last year they were part of an inexpensive garland I picked up at Hobby Lobby, but after braving the elements through the winter, the ribbon was in shreds. So I cut off the flowers, attached magnets to the back and, voila! Interactive decor for my metal doors!

I'm having a hard time keeping my brush off of everything not nailed down and then some things that are. Like this window box my bff thrifted for me quite a while back. But then again, isn't that what spring is all about--a new (colorful) life for old things?

how to kill your innate creativity

5 Sure Ways to Kill Your Innate Creativity:

1. Spend all your creative time thinking about art, buying supplies for it and looking at others work but never actually making art yourself.

 
2. Compare your work to everyone else.

3. Constantly replay the one negative criticism you received instead of the 10 positive ones.

4. Believe that everything you create should be great.

5. Expect that you can make great art without hard work and fighting Resistance every step of the way.

how to make bad art

How to Make Bad (and eventually good) Art:

1. Show up. You have to get started to accomplish anything at all. This is quite literally half the battle.

2. Give yourself permission to make something ugly.

3. Let your focus be on the creative process, not the final product. Creating is an end in itself.

4. Have fun with your art. Experiment, play, rediscover the childlike joy of making a mess.

5. Expect that the voices of doubt and fear will come but refuse to listen to them.

6. Embrace failure as evidence that you are done sitting on the sidelines.

7. Surround yourself with people who support your creative pursuits and inspire you to grow. Limit or eliminate time with negative people who drain you of creativity.

8. Repeat steps 1-7 every day, or as often as possible. The more art you make—even bad art—the better.

And for tomorrow: How to kill your innate creativity.

why bad art is good

For February's issue of our local independent newspaper PULP (I know, it's almost April...I'm so behind.), I talked a little about one of my favorite subjects: ugly art. If you've read my blog for any length of time, you've heard a lecture or two on the importance of letting go of our self-imposed expectations of creating a masterpiece and just enjoying the process of art making as its own end. We all need a little reminding from time to time, so this one's for both of us.

Why Bad Art is Good (part 1)

by Debra Cooper

There is something about facing a blank canvas or blank sheet of paper that can be paralyzing, regardless of how many times you've faced it before. Whether it is the overwhelming sense of too many possibilities or the fear of not being good enough, just getting started is often the most difficult creative hurdle to be crossed. Yet, even when you manage to put pen or brush to paper, there are other creative demons waiting for their chance to send you packing. As soon as you feel yourself warming up to the task, whispers of doubt will inevitably drift in. It starts innocently enough (“You don't have time for this. There are so many other things you need to be doing”), but the clamor becomes more insidious as you push the thoughts away to focus on the creative work at hand (“You can't do this, you don't have what it takes. This is stupid/ugly/pointless. No one else will like it. You will never be a real artist.”) And you are not alone in this struggle. Every artist, regardless of their perceived success, will wrestle daily with similar fears and doubts as long as they are pushing themselves to grow as artists. But having such fears isn't the problem, it is giving into them.

Realistically, you probably will not be the next Pablo Picasso. But so what? This fact doesn't let you off the hook. The creative impulse inside you is there for a reason. Your job is not to understand it but to be faithful to it. Your job is simply to show up and do the work. What happens after that is beyond your control. So how do you gain the confidence to face the blank canvas, the voices of fear and doubt, the perfectionist within? By embracing failure and giving yourself permission to create something ugly. Despite what you have been told, ugly art is good. Ugly art says, “Instead of pretending I am creative because I spent all morning on Pinterest, I showed up and did the work.” To make good art, you first have to make bad art. And even when good art becomes the norm, there will still be days when nothing turns out like you thought it would and you're tempted to toss it all in the recycle bin. But don't do it. That crappy art you're holding in your hand is precious. It is evidence that you are on a path of growth.

Thankfully, embracing the Ugly is easy and it starts with not taking yourself too seriously. Remember how it felt as a child to scribble, to color, to create freely? Yeah, me neither. But that's because we weren't even thinking about it, it came naturally without self-consciousness. Children create for the pure joy of it and we adults can too, but it takes a little work. It takes letting go of our expectations and letting the creative process be its own end. Admire the way the paint swirls together on the palette; immerse yourself in color and ignore form; try something new without reading the instructions; make a mess and then make another mess right on top of the first; play and make having fun with art your only goal for the day. The irony is when you give yourself permission to make something ugly, you set yourself free to do your best work which will be more satisfying as a result. And satisfying work breeds confidence to push through the blocks and keep creating, and the more art you make—good or bad—the more skilled you will become.