I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell. --The Secret History, Donna Tartt
Beginnings are everything. And the beginning of a great novel is no exception. To be sure, there are plenty of good books out there with so-so openers, but if you find yourself holding a book with a riveting first paragraph, snatch it up because you know it will be a good one.
I used to think if you fell from grace it was more likely than not the result of one stupendous error, or else an unfortunate accident. I hadn't learned that it can happen so gradually you don't lose your stomach or hurt yourself in the landing. You don't necessarily sense the motion. I've found it takes at least two things and generally three things to alter the course of a life: you slip around the truth once, and then again, and one more time, and there you are, feeling for a moment, that it was sudden, your arrival at the bottom of the heap. --A Map of the World, Jane Hamilton
But this is not to say that endings are less important. In many ways, they are far more important for the end is what will remain in the memory the longest. And for me personally, a bad or even mediocre ending can ruin an otherwise perfectly amazing book.
I finished Still Aliceand although I loved it in so many ways, the end was a bit of a disappointment. But it seems I'm destined to be unhappy with endings lately. Before Still Alice, I carried around Laura Kasischke's The Raising with me for 4 days. Now, I will freely admit that what sold me on the book was one reviewer having compared it to Donna Tartt's Secret History--my favorite novel of all time. And, though it was no Secret History, I thoroughly enjoyed the first 3/4th of the book. I literally couldn't put it down, stayed up late and neglected my family for days because of it. And then it just ended. I thought surely someone had torn out the final chapter. Imagine a murder mystery full of twists and intrigue only to find there was no murder and no explanation either
Honestly, I have no problem with an unhappy ending because it lines up with what I know to be true about the world. And I am nothing if not looking for truth. (I love what Azar Nafisi says in Reading Lolita in Tehran: “What we search for in fiction is not so much reality but the epiphany of truth.”) But even if in Real Life we do not always find closure, I do want to see it in my literature. At the very least a tying up of lose ends or some meaning I can begrudgingly take with me back into the world I live in.
I picked up a pencil and held it over a sheet of white paper, but my feelings stood in the way of my words. Well, I would wait, day and night, until I knew what to say. Humbly now, with no vaulting dream of achieving a vast unity, I wanted to try to build a bridge of words between me and that outside world, that world which was so distant and elusive that it seemed unreal.
I would hurl the words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger for life that gnaws in us all, to keep alive in our hearts a sense of the inexpressibly human. --Black Boy, Richard Wright
Which all leads me back to beginnings, because I must start again at some point. Maybe I'll play it safe and stick to something reliable the next time around. Or maybe I'll take another chance on finding a new favorite, so worth the struggle: the glossy coolness of the front cover, the familiar and comforting smell of the pages inside--pristine or worn--and those first words that make the pulse race and everything else around you fade just a little more into the background.
A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. I say 'one chooses' with the inaccurate pride of a professional writer who--when he has been seriously considered at all--has been praised for his technical ability, but do I in fact of my own will choose that black wet January night on the Common, in 1946, the sight of Henry Miles slanting across the wide river of rain, or did these images choose me? --The End of the Affair, Graham Greene
So, which do you prefer: a good beginning or a good ending? And which do you think is most telling of how a book will turn out to be as a whole?
I've been devouring books like cookies lately. Ignoring my family and real life for the worlds of more interesting others. Reading is really the best escape I know of and it isn't illegal and doesn't make you fat.
Right now, I'm having a hard time pulling myself away from Still Alice, a woman's decent into dementia caused by Alzheimer's Disease. And what is even more fascinating is the interview with the author (a Harvard neurologist) at the back of the book where she talks about her next novel, Left Neglected. It is the story of a woman who after experiencing a traumatic brain injury loses the existence of left, the left side of space, as in cannot read the left side of the page or only eats food on the right side of the plate or cannot see, hear, acknowledge the person sitting to the left of her. The left no longer exists. Can you even imagine such a thing?? The human brain is amazing!
Of course it all reminds me of a story my inventive husband came up with for me to tell people when they find themselves unwillingly assaulted by my prominent southern accent the moment I open my mouth in public. For better or worse, we chose to live in a state that isn't always so friendly toward Texans so my loving and protective husband thought instead of admitting I came to Colorado from Texas, it might be better received to tell them my distinctive southern accent is actually the result of a make-believe disorder he dubbed "lingual aphasia" (I prefer linguaphasia) where after experiencing a traumatic brain injury I awoke from my coma thankful to be alive and startled to find myself speaking with a southern accent when, in fact, I'm actually a native New Yorker. What do you think? Too much? Yeah, you're probably right.
Next on the reading list, thanks to my local thrift store: Amy Tan's The Opposite of Fate; Reading Lolita in Tehranby Azar Nafisi; and Augusten Burrough's Running with Scissors.
Read anything good lately you can recommend to a written word junkie?
Sometimes something that starts off promising enough can unexpectedly take a wrong turn somewhere along the way and derail completely and inexplicably. Like this painting that Shannon and I worked on for 6 fun but ultimately frustrating hours one night before Christmas. Maybe it was the fact that we were working on a deadline, which neither of us enjoys. Or maybe it was that the painting was to be for a friend and the expectations we set for ourselves were more than we could realistically meet in the time we had. It could have been because we were trying something new, in imitation of another artist's work, and not being true to our own unique vision. It might simply have been the weather or the phase of the moon or any number of factors completely beyond our control. Whatever the cause, despite our best efforts and intentions, this painting just wasn't working.
So, in one quick moment, tired and frustrated, we decided to whitewash the whole thing except for the parts we really loved. This technqiue always works to salvage the best of the piece and yet push the whole thing in a new and better direction than it had been headed. We tell ourselves it's just another step in building up the richly layered backgrounds we love.
But even after this, it soon became obvious that what we really needed was a clean slate. And occasionally, you just have to be willing to let it all go--the expectations, the hours of hard work, the vision you had in your head, the If Only and the We're-So-Close-But-So-Far-Away--for a potential there's no guarantee of.
So in the end (though it wasn't the end), we let it all go. And it was both sad and liberating.
Never be afraid or ashamed of failure. It is evidence you are no longer sitting on the sidelines. Because we all know you may lose, but you will never win if you don't get off the bench and get in the game.
When was the last time you thought you had made nothing but a mess only to persevere and end up with something more beautiful--and more satisfying--than you could have ever planned?
Our newest collaborative painting from just before Christmas.
Sleeping Beauty, mixed media on canvas 36x24 in.
A few details; the details are always my favorite:
We've been working on getting our website up and running (slow and somewhat paintful) and even had some postcards printed. It's like holding your dreams in your hands.
I'm more of an In-The-Moment kind of girl and don't often take the time to look back and reflect on the past. I'm also a Glass-Half-Empty kind of girl and am always pleasantly surprised when I do look back that things weren't near as terrible/uneventful/difficult as I remember them to be. Despite my usual unwillingness to dwell on the past, it is good to think back on where we've come from if only to evaluate where we are going. If I can see even a modicum of growth, I am encouraged that all the ordinary life struggles are worth it in the end and if I made it through that, I can certainly make it through this--whatever that and this may turn out to be. And creatively speaking, it can be a tremendous boost to realize you actually did accomplish a few things in a year. So in that spirit, here's a brief glance back at 2011 and what one can managed to do with a little imagination and a pile of junk.
January 2011-We had our first art night; worked in my pen & ink Moleskine; began experiments in watercolor.
February 2011-Fell deeper in love with my Moleskine; spent some time in Phoenix with my honey and finally heard the last refrain of, "How come you never make me anything?"
March 2011-Bought me some high-heeled shoes; shuddered out the sound of my own voice making videos for 21 Secrets; mixed it up with spray paint in my back yard; broke in my second Moleskine.
April 2011-Celebrated my 38th birthday and John's first half-marathon; played with paper scraps; experimented with watery flowers on canvas.
May 2011-Made new friends bonding over paint at art night; made some fabric journals and painted BIG.
June 2011-Fretted over a book project; reconnected with nature at Bear Lake; painted more drippy flowers.
July 2011-Learned to journal bigger; thrifted new dishes; brought more color into my kitchen.
August 2011-Started Moleskine #3; made some bracelets and picked up knitting again; pondered the depths of Black Canyon.
September 2011-Road trip to Reno and a new journal for the trip; origami in ink; shedding old skin.
October 2011-Getting back to collaborative painting; harvesting Summer and greeting Winter at the same time; facing my rabbit heart; building a new journal.
November 2011-Playing bloggy catch-up; living in my new journal; more painting collaborations.
December 2011-Christmas crafting; building a business; new journals; family, friends, food and celebration.
Hope you enjoyed this glancing backwards. I want to thank each and every one of you who have taken up your precious time visiting my blog, posting encouraging comments and reminding me I'm not alone in this. Thank you so very very much and I'm looking forward to sharing more art & inspiration with you in the new year!
I managed to pull together two journals for my Etsy shop only a few days before Christmas. I love these two but I had hoped to make several more. So much for big plans for the holidays.
Both journals are made with very cool vintage book covers lined inside with fabric. The inside pages are all various sizes and stitched together, a good mix of printed, blank, hand painted, found and artist papers. Each book contains 7 signatures chain stitched together, about 120 pages total. So you have a nice thick book for journaling, writing, doodling or list-making.
If you are interested in either of these journals, go here for more pictures and pricing. These will likely be the last journals I make for a while so snatch them up while you can!
And now a little song from the best Christmas album EVER.
Listen with someone you love.
My painting partner Shannon and I have been working hard on building our portfolio in an attempt to establish a business for our collaborative paintings. Last week we sold our first painting and secured our first commission, and over the weekend were able to realize another big dream of ours, to have an office or studio space to display and sell our paintings. Shannon's husband and his business partner have recently purchased an amazing office in downtown Pueblo for their publishing company and alternative newspaper. They guys were generous enough to allow us to display our paintings for sale in the storefront.
With a $0 budget we spent most of Saturday stringing lights and wracking our brains to come up with titles for all our paintings, both collaborations and individual works. I may be biased, but I think they bring quite a bit of life to the cool old building.
We are also working on establishing a local artist guild in Pueblo. There is another guild downtown but is quite exclusive and not at all open to work that doesn't fall neatly into the esteemed "fine art" category. Especially for a town its size, Pueblo has thriving art, music, and film communities but most of the art you find locally is very dark. We are hoping to bring a little color, joy and light to this city we have grown to love, not to mention connect with some of the incredibly talented artists and artists-to-be that also find their homes here.
If you ask any native Southern Coloradans, you'll probably find Pueblo doesn't have the best reputation. But having not lived here all our lives, we have a completely different perspective than many locals and are blown away by the potential of such a undervalued city.
Twenty minutes from the mountains, 350 days of sun per year, vibrant artist community, thriving local businesses, victorian architecture, charming neighborhoods, ethnic and social diversity, one of the least expensive cities in Colorado--what's not to love?
Next we will be working on our website and establishing a screening process for other artists who would have their work displayed in the office. Such an exciting time!
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In case you haven't heard, Shannon Ganshorn is hosting an awesome mixed media postcard swap on her blog with sign ups starting tomorrow! You can find all the information and join in the fun here!
Sorry for my absence, but at this time of year with so much gingerbread to bake, spiced tea to sip on, twinkling lights to stare into, heating vents to huddle by (damn a house with no fire place!), and Christmas books to read, its hard to find the time for concentrating on a screen and making your numbly cold fingers dance across its lettered keys. It's my favorite time of year and it is going to be over before we know it. So, I think a little holiday crafting is in order, don't you? (I had planned on getting at least a few of these into my Etsy shop, but as the days whiz by me the outlook's not so good.)
Something tells me, like my Valentine's Day danglies, these ornaments may be staying up year round.
When you start a new journal, it's hard to imagine just where it will go. Once you find yourself buried deep in its pages, it's hard to remember where you started out. It's not a bad idea from time to time to take a quick glance back at where you've come from as you keep moving forward.
Before (a not-so-shabby place to start):
After:
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Even the most humble of beginnings can be turned into something unforgetable in the end. If you find yourself wishing for a new journal where you can stake your claim and make your home, check out my Etsy shop in the next week or so or sign up for my mailing list (top left-hand side bar) to get a quick email notification when I update my shop. And, as always, if you have any special requests, just let me know.



