Keeping it Real

After a few years of restless uncertainty regarding the direction of my artwork, I'm finally admitting to myself who I really am as an artist. Relieved with this long-overdue acceptance, I'm going on with my bad self.

For me, it's all about the horse, but it's not just about portraying the horse in pretty pictures. Horses are magnificent creatures, no doubt, but strictly idolizing them as the beauties they are is to deny their paradoxical nature. Consider this quote from my artist's statement: "...expressing the subtle with an undercurrent of volatility."

Horses have distinct personalities. Some are sweet in nature, accepting, generous and willing. Some are sullen, nasty and psychotic - not always resulting from their interaction with evil humans. DNA and genetics play a role as well as learned behavior from other horses.

Horses are dangerous just by way of their size, speed and sheer athleticism. A spooked horse can duck violently in a millisecond, sending a rider helplessly off into space. Anyone who has worked with horses can attest to the consequences of not following the rules of sensible horsemanship. I've been kicked, bitten, crushed, stomped, run-over and otherwise had my bell rung many times. Not to mention being "unseated". I accept responsibility for my stupidity and carelessness, however some of those physical encounters entailed some frightening equine aggression.

Truth be told, our age-old association with horses is wonderful and terrible. Accidents are inevitable. People get hurt and killed. Horses get hurt and killed.

I respect this aspect of our relationship and have a lot to say about it. No morbid depictions but no 4-F's either (foals frolicking in fields of flowers). It's just how I've experienced it.

Snake, 20"x24", oil on canvas. Click here for more info.

Calling it as I see it,
Sharon

Thresholding

Eric Rhoads, the publisher of Plein Air Magazine, interviews successful artists and generously provides podcasts of the chat. Well worth your time, check them out here.

A common denominator seems to emerge throughout the interviews: that "talent" is a subjective term that implies a romantic state of divine endowment. All of the artists agree that "talent" is more like disciplined hard work and persistence. They freely share their stories of hardship, uncertainty and frustration experienced on their journey to success.

The interview with artist William Davidson especially interested me. The term "thresholding" was mentioned by Eric Rhoads as "...pushing yourself to the point of discomfort and then obligating yourself to it..."

 I had to look it up.

The online Free Dictionary defines thresholding as: the magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result, or condition to occur or be manifested. Hmm, I understand a pain threshold on a scale that's endured, but this description seems like a deliberate exercise to force oneself into a higher level of accomplishment, or is it enlightenment? 

Is it goal oriented? Is it a means for accelerated growth? Is it intensive self-realization?

The Sun Dance, Frederick Remington, 1909

Will it hurt?
Sharon

What the Election Means to Me

I have a dear friend who's name is Bill. He's our house sitter when we're exhibiting out of town. He puts his feet up and relaxes to the latest on Netflix while his lady reads bedtime stories to our cats. There's a rare trust between us. Leaving the care of our home and beloved pets to another is an act of faith.

Bill also takes care of our lawn, especially during the race meet when time is precious. If I can, I love to sit outside with him for a few minutes as he re-hydrates after mowing in the summer heat. He is the only person I enjoy discussing politics with. Thoughtful, intelligent and open-minded, Bill and I listen to each other and offer opinions without judgement.

Therefore, given the aftermath of the election, I will not tell you who I voted for. That would incite the incendiaries and I'm not going there nor will I tolerate the overwrought opinions of out of control emotions. But I have asked myself what the election means to me as an artist. And over the past several months, I've given this question a lot of thought. A lot.

No politician, no official, no election, no government nor any other outside entity will help me sell more paintings. The most brilliant economic proposals will do nothing for my art business. Nor will the stock market, trade agreements, rate of unemployment or projected gross national product. Here's where the ball lands in my court - I am in charge of my art business and how well (or not) it performs.

Attitude is everything and if I don't fall prey to race consciousness, I will maintain a positive course to success. It all begins and ends right here with me. I have control, not the president-elect. All I have to do is show up everyday in the studio and do my best. If it's not good, learn from my mistakes and start over. Demand the best, expect the best and unseen forces will assist. Have faith. Be confident. Listen to the voice within, not the cacophony of chaos surrounding our very beings.

Today's artists have access to tools that help them self-promote while maintaining control of the focus and direction of their goals. Use them...often.

It's a wonderful time to be an artist,
Sharon

Thunder

Isn't it peculiar how tidbits of help turn up to support you when embarking on a new project or venture, especially one filled with emotion? Assurance whispers through a song lyric, an article sitting in your inbox or from ideas that seemingly arrive via the cosmos. They can make you smile in recognition or take your breath away in a mind-blowing epiphany. Makes life interesting, huh?

I loved Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Big Magic. Her description of poet Ruth Stone sticks in my mind and I'd love to experience the dramatic journey of an idea thundering from afar, heading straight toward me. The catch is, if you don't act on it quickly, it continues on without you, searching for someone who will.

My ideas mercifully linger, sometimes for months. I've been preparing for a series of paintings unlike any I've ever made. October has been a very busy month and two more shows loom. That doesn't mean that I don't visit the studio and stare at the prepared canvas. Visualize. My inspiration is patiently waiting for me to make manifest. No thunder, just a lot of tidbits of help.

And no rules either,
Sharon

Butterflies

All last week we began to prepare for our six week exhibit at the Saratoga Race Course. The tent is up and the grid walls and lights are in place. As I write this today, I'm feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. So many vendors, not just us artists, have invested an enormous chunk of time and money to ensure a quality product and/or service and are now fussing over the presentation of such. I want my tent to be pleasing and welcoming. My originals are for sale with galleries this season, which leaves us to sell the giclees and the sublimation products. This was my intention.

My husband and business partner, Michael Bray, is the most reliable fellow workaholic I know. He has lived with this demanding perfectionist for over thirty-five years and rises above my expectations to produce top-quality products. After all, the images on the products are reproductions of my original paintings. While I realize that the substrate will cause differences in color and contrast, I still choose to sell something I can be proud of. I also don't mind cropping, as long as it isn't a nose, a foot or a tail and the composition remains strong.

We've always worked well together, even back when he was training horses. I know how blessed we are (at least I am).

In addition to the products and their display, there is the consideration of inventory tracking. With so much new merchandise that offers a wide choice of images, this, I think, is going to be a work in progress. PLU's and bar coding may be implemented later as we have focused our concentration on creating and displaying the product. Sometimes I feel a bit of trepidation as I wonder if we don't offer too many choices. However, that may be the very asset that helped our giclee reproduction business become so successful. If we can launch this new machine and keep it running smoothly, which I believe with all conviction that will happen, then we'll have added another dimension to what I call my "art business."

This Friday, baby. This Friday, the 22nd.
Sharon

Stanka Kordic

Those of you who follow my artwork and it's processes have witnessed the gamut of my experiences as a painter. Sometimes it's positively thrilling and other times, well, I struggle miserably. I don't subscribe to the tormented artist sentiment, rather, I desire that the act of creating be inspired and joyous. Even though I devote time to meditate "religiously" every single morning, I don't consider myself a deep thinker. Decisions in my art making tend to be intuitive. Not doubt, I'm evolving rapidly (I think I'm too old for a mid-life crisis).

I have a master-artist voice in my head that coaches me through every piece of artwork I make from concept to signing. Before you conclude that I've gone completely daft, let me explain. Most artists have a running dialog playing in their head as they create. Believe me, it's a good thing. There is so much to consider, so much to question, comparisons - is that color warm or cool, is that horse's leg anatomically correct, does this brushstroke convey enough energy, am I accurately portraying depth, am I convincing my viewer of the story concept, and on and on it goes.

My own personal master-artist coach has become demanding and harshly scrutinizing of late. It's still a good thing but often can be downright exhausting.

However, this is not a negative post. I took this weekend to catch up on varnishing paintings. The strong solvents require that I find something else to do outside of the studio. A newsletter I subscribe to, Fine Art Connoisseur, was languishing around in my email in-box. I finally sat down at the computer and found this great video contained within the issue. It's about the process of master artist Stanka Kordic, who I am only vaguely familiar with (hey, I'm a horse artist). I found it to be extremely inspiring and I hope you will too.

No! master-artist, you need not talk me through this blog post.
Sharon

Meh

I park my website with host FineArtStudioOnline. A daily article via FASO is delivered to my inbox and I think anyone can subscribe. These short newsletters are written by artists, their spouses, marketers, gallerists, webmasters, etc. Some are very informative.

You know how once in a blue moon you will seriously resonate to some uncanny pearl of information that's tossed your way? This particular FASO piece did that to me. Authored by artist John P. Wiess, it had me nodding in agreement. Here's the link to his article and be sure to scroll down to read the interesting comments.

As I immerse myself in the now big and popular genre of plein air painting, I too have thought so much of the artwork is mediocre. Perusing my copy of the glossy and lovely PleinAir Magazine, I find myself saying meh *(on the inside) in response to some of the ads and featured articles. Don't misunderstand...most of the artwork is gorgeous and provokes yearnings that inspire me to be even remotely close to that good.  However, a lot isn't. Especially the ads in the back by the artists. I find myself thinking that the ads should illustrate their very best work but most seem to fall short. Meh.

Okay, I admit to being a newbie at this direct painting thing and what the heck qualifies me to judge? Nothing, but I have been painting for 35 years and making a living at it for the past 19 of them. So this morning I went through the issue page by page and asked myself what is beautiful, passionate and most of all...intriguing. What am I attracted to, what do I find compelling amongst this collection of art?

Here's one that got my attention by artist David Tanner:

This painting is so good on so many levels. The usual accolades of great brushwork, rhythm of movement, great use of color and all that...but mostly because as a viewer I feel such a part of the scene that if I don't get out of the way, one of the laborers will walk right into me.

Right on Mr. Weiss,
Sharon
*meh as defined by the Urban Dictionary: indifference; to be used when one simply does not care.

Crimes Against Creativity

As an artist and a former race tracker and now getting fairly ancient, I have a lot to say and a lot that I'd love to share with the world. But I hesitate for fear of being misconstrued as negative. I don't want to be a downer. So, I've been posting only about travels, accomplishments, finished work, goals and other neutral pursuits. Lately I've been rethinking that rosy persona. Wondering if honesty about some of life's career challenges would be helpful to some of my readers. Hmm...

So let me drop this bomb on you: there are so many dear humans who blithely go through their lives without an original thought in their heads. Ever. There, I said it. Furthermore, these humans are perfectly fine with stealing my ideas and blatantly copying my artwork for their own financial gain. I can't begin to tell you how frustrating and demoralizing this is. After this latest episode, I'm going to get a bit more vocal about the matter and perhaps my experiences will help some of you arm yourselves against these thieves.

Anywho...

All last week I worked on the program cover for the Palamountain Scholarship Benefit. With the recent passing of Anna Palamountain, I wanted this year's artwork to be a poignant yet loving tribute. I think I achieved the feeling I was going for. I'll post the image after the organizers give me the okay.

Passion and heart...something the copycats are devoid of.

I revisited a spot that I had plein air painted last year to see if I could improve. The image on the left is the older piece on paper and the right is new and on panel. I do see progress but I'm still pressuring myself to rush when there is so much to consider and process. While that incessant conversation rolls through my brain I have to remember to apply the same "passion and heart" to landscape that I can so easily translate into my equine paintings. It seems to be about depicting a sense of place, but not just a physical place, and not just technique. Using all of the senses is vital of course but it's also feeling the soul of the environment. Acknowledging a unique identity. Listening to the ghosts who whisper the secrets of timelessness.

Waxing philosophical,
Sharon

Small and Even Smaller

With my equine painting, particularly racing, I possess a compulsion to experiment and infuse my subject with movement by summoning every swashbuckling brushstroke I can muster. It's a drive that's so strong that I've often felt the effects physically. Yes, I can give myself a headache with overwrought obsessiveness. The intended outcome is always just out of reach, never quite attainable, the results never satisfactory and that's okay. I suppose it's that desire to communicate a feeling that supports an eternal prowling like a hungry predator.

It's a challenge to transfer this passion to my landscape painting, most likely because I've returned to the rules of basic elements. For now, I'm giving myself permission to practice, investigate and most of all to just play and see what can be.

Here are a couple of small equine pieces I produced last week. You can see the vacillation occurring as I switch from one very familiar thought process to a new one. The challenge is to merge the two into a cohesive approach to a decent painting - whatever the subject.

Galloping Out of the Fog, 11"x14" oil on canvas

Backlit, 11"x14" oil on canvas

This tiny panel sample has been kicking around my studio for months. In honor of the Kentucky Derby, why not dive out of the box and paint something miniscule? Remember, I'm accustomed to painting ten foot canvases. I had to locate my magnifying glass to sign it!

California Chrome, 3"x5" oil on panel

Far-sightedly yours,
Sharon

The Muse - Revisited

In the past I written about my personal Muse. We've had lots of good times together, and we've also defiantly stared each other down, hands on hips. A typical love relationship. When the equine art market flatlined, I tearily bade her goodbye, promised to visit often and set off in search of a replacement. Believe me, the Goddess of Horse Art is a stalker.

You may be asking, what is the Muse? In Greek mythology, there are three goddesses who provide knowledge and creative inspiration. Here's the Wikipedia version. In my opinion, it's the drive behind any worthy endeavor - whether it's a masterpiece of art or music or the cure for cancer. Referring to the Muse implies an outside entity when in reality the source comes from within. Creatives must learn to access a higher consciousness where all of life's answers and infinite ideas abound. Okay, it's where you invoke the Muse. Sometimes she waits around for you, insisting that you ask nicely, and sometimes she arrives unannounced in her glorious swooshing cape.

I recently listen to a Radiolab segment on NPR. Me, Myself, and the Muse is an interesting take on the the where, when and how's of inspiration. It's well worth a few minutes to listen. Be sure to hang around long enough to hear Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat Pray Love). She's a delight.

Firefox won't let me embed the audio so you'll have to click to the link here.

Say hi to your Muse for me,
Sharon

Permission to be Great

I harbor a guilty pleasure: award shows. Surprised? They ignite that fantasy portion of my brain and I visualize "what if?" What if there were nationally televised award programs specifically targeted to visual artists? Can the subjective approval of art be measured? What would be distinctive, considered excellent enough to garner special merit? What would truly be "award-winning (not self-proclaimed) and by who's standards?

Okay, that's just too crazy to even consider and yet another subject for an all-night discussion. So, I'm watching the Golden Globes last week and Leonardo DiCaprio wins best actor in a musical or comedy. His acceptance speech includes much gushing about Martin Scorcese, seated in the audience and director of the film DiCaprio has won the award for. DiCaprio calls Scorcese a "risk-taker", a "visionary", putting "the fabric of our culture on screen." I agree. Massively talented, his list of accolades is beyond impressive and his multi-tasking for not only directing films but also screenwriting, producing, acting and filling in as film historian is nonpareil. When do these over-achievers sleep? What drive. His work is great, he will leave a legacy of greatness, he drags his players along with him to great accomplishment...he's just an inspiration to become great.

Pondering this in my studio the next morning, I'm wondering if I could be great. Could I ever paint a great canvas or aspire to a great idea? What really defines "great?"

With arms folded in front a large commissioned canvas, I gather up the chutzpa to whisper to myself: today I will do something great. Just like that. This hesitant yet audacious statement prompted a liberating feeling of empowerment. Like giving myself permission to really strive, achieve and go for it. It promised opportunity for growth with assurance. It handed out confidence. It's too simple.

I urge you to give a a shot...you won't be sorry. They're just words, after all. I've said it everyday since the Golden Globes. I'm emboldened.

Discover you own greatness,
Sharon

Truths and Others Vagaries

I subscribe to Seth Godin's blog. Seth just published an impressive 5000th blog post. He's also written twelve marketing best-sellers in a thoughtful, philosophical voice that I personally resonate with, especially when he intentionally includes us arty types who tend to be a bit remiss regarding our business savvy (or woeful lack of). Here's a link if you'd like to subscribe: Seth's Blog.

I hope I don't get into trouble but I'm re-posting a particularly apropos piece from a few days ago on Seth's blog:

"The tried and true is beyond reproach. It's been tried, and of course, it's true. True because it worked.
In times of change, though, most of the tried is in fact, false. False because what used to work, doesn't, at least not any longer.
Sure, it might be what you've always done. But that doesn't make it true, or right, or best. It just means that you already tried it.
The nature of revolutions is that they destroy the perfect and enable the impossible. Seeking out the tried and true is the wrong direction for crazy times." - Seth Godin, June 2, 2013

I am not just an artist. I'm not just a painter struggling to recoup from a disastrous economy that harshly impacted all of the arts and then some. I'm in the art business and I've made it one of my priorities to educate my clients and potential clients about what that means.

As a business person, I've become a bit aggressive. Okay, very aggressive. I have something to sell that I believe is a desirable, quality product and I'm not shy about getting the word out. Art is a tough sell during good times, never mind the "crazy times." Some admire my determination and others are repelled by it. Most fall somewhere in between.

No, this is not a hobby. Yes, I deserve to get paid well for my time, my ability and my now vast experience. It's been said that to create art is a gift from the heavens. No, it isn't. It's more like a lifetime of perseverance and never-ending study and a burning desire to achieve excellence. The pro shows up in the studio every day and gets to work. There's no time to wait for heavenly inspiration to strike.

So, if I've come on like a used car salesman and you've been offended, I'm no longer offering apologies. My tried and true is also false, spurring a search for new truths.

Hey you! There's no better time to buy a painting!
Sharon

The Process

The process of making art is as infinitely varied as the art itself. Every artist has their own way of finding inspiration and transforming it creatively. That's the magic spark, the beginning. From that moment of scintillating insight, a series of actions follows that will eventually produce a piece of art - be it a painting or a theater production of whatever the end result is desired.

Many people are not aware of the tremendous work the process often entails. It can be a long road from idea to completion. There is the preparation of materials which includes lots of trial and error in first choosing the supplies that suits the artist and at the best price. Highest quality paint is not cheap.

I prefer to stretch my own canvas simply because commercial pre-stretched canvas is awful. We begin with a textured 11 or 12 ounce canvas that has adequate tooth to hold my thick paint application. I say "we" because my husband Michael has blessedly taken over stretching duties at this point. He pulls the canvas over wooden strips, or stretcher bars and staples it in the back leaving the sides of the canvas smooth (known as a gallery wrap). Once he's finished, I begin applying the first of three coats of gesso creating a barrier between the paint and raw canvas. Coat one is mixed with a bit of water to penetrate the canvas fibers and given a day to dry. Coat two is mixed with an acrylic medium to provide flexibility and given another day to dry. Before applying coat three, I lightly sand the surface to create a bit of tooth and then apply gesso full strength. After another day of drying the canvas is ready for a ground (a neutral wash of color to eliminate the stark whiteness). Yet another day to dry and then I'm finally ready to paint! It's a labor of love...really... but you get, um, the picture.

Before beginning the painting - and this is assuming the artist is clear about what they want to express - there is usually some preliminary sketching. Sometimes a lot of sketching. Perhaps the artist requires photographic material or is compelled to research the subject that further demands untold hours at the library or on the internet. When finally proceeding into art-making, that process often takes on a life of its own that doesn't always cooperate thus requiring the artist to make time-consuming changes and other adjustments throughout.

My point is that making art is diligent work. A beautiful finished piece is a joy to behold but know that it doesn't gracefully manifest by divine intervention as some have naively intimated. Yes, we've all heard it. This is about process and I've haven't even mentioned the time (years) and effort (extraordinary) to develop skills and techniques that continues throughout the career of an artist. Please consider this before gasping at the price of an artwork next time you're in a gallery.

With a heavenly sponsored talent (!),
Sharon

Graffiti and Other Masterworks

As I fumble around my paint box, flummoxed and forlorn, I wish I had begun my young painting career as an illegal street artist, stealthily stalking substrates off limits.

Okay, that's enough of that. There's a lot of luck in this game...serendipitously finding yourself in the right place, in perfect timing and landing in the company of some very, very helpful people. Talent and ability are often secondary. Frustration abounds for the workaholics (me) who take themselves way too seriously (me) and continuously bang their exhausted heads against the graffitied wall (me).

Consider Basquiat...then Banksy...and now KAWS aka Brian Donnelly. If I were a street artist like KAWS, Macy's would ask ME to design a colorless balloon for the big day (I'd call it Buddy) and I'd have MY few minutes of fame on the CBS Sunday Morning show. Cool, huh?

And for the record, I absolutely adore Banksy and his artwork. I'll never, ever be this cool. Damn.

Just sayin',
Sharon

Genre to General

After the race meet ends, Saratogians express little to no interest in equine art, especially horse racing. Either they've had their fill of it during the summer, aren't particularly inclined toward the sport, or it reminds them of huge crowds, insane traffic and the hopelessness of obtaining a dinner reservation.

So, what's an equine artist to do? Many of my peers are expanding their artistic repertoire in the wake of the stifling recession that put the kabosh on more than a few thriving careers. Experimentation's necessary course of action has produced these recent inventions:

Islands of Lake George, oil on canvas, 8"x10"

Simplify has become my new mantra and the word loops over and over in my head. Here, I'm playing with atmosphere and pushing the color expression. I feel like I want to re-work the value of islands to bring it closer to the air and water.

Lobsterman, oil on canvas, 11"x14

From my now infamous Maine vacation, I awoke early on the shore to observe the laborious hauling and inspection of lobster pots. The canvas ground is a cool, light yellow mixture of cadmium light and yellow ochre. The background was a wash of  pthalo blue and white. I was going to work in some water action behind the boat but decided to simplify and left it as is with the yellow showing through. It may not work but it was an interesting decision for me.

Sherman Farm, oil on canvas, 8"x10"

This plein air piece is a feel-good stretch. It was rendered quickly and simplified as it was only in the upper 30's outside. I've been studying landscape painting and pining to be good at it! It may be a matter of practice, practice, practice - or not. I've got a long way to go before I make friends with the greens. Whatever, it's good to get out and paint directly from life. A great help has been Landscape Painting by Mitchell Albala.

Untitled (as yet), oil on canvas, 22"x24"

I simplified these brushstrokes with a deliberate application...no unsure back and forth blending like I caught myself doing in the landscape pieces. It has an abstract feel to it and I'm especially pleased with the composition. Thrusting, powerful bodies in space...gee, that's familiar.

I feel like I'm starting over in some respects. It's uncomfortable and although it's interesting to try new subjects, I'm not very secure regarding my motives and direction as an artist. After a couple of decades of branding myself as a "dynamic equine artist", where am I going with this? Will I still be able to apply an aesthetic of striving for excellence, a dialog of visual communication and convincingly convey my ideas in paint that will translate as...me?    

It's good to step out of the box (I guess),
Sharon

Help Me Get This

Recently, Michael and I visited MASS MoCA. It's contemporary art on steroids and I'm sheepishly admitting that I just didn't "get" most of the installations even after reading the accompanying literature. Guiltily, that little voice in my head whispered "is this art?" As an artist I'm old enough, experienced enough and should be open to alternative perspectives and sensitive to nuance. A video installation of a person in a self car wash hosing down a non-existent vehicle elicited a silent "huh" and made me feel disconnected and, well...stupid. As a working artist I should get this stuff.

I belong to the school that believes art should tell a story and engage the viewer. Call me old fashion but I love the immediate emotional connection.

Emotion + skill + experience = great art (in my opinion). I want to be blown away by a piece and unable to take my eyes off it. And that includes abstract painting, sculpture and yes, installations that are intellectually accessible and provide relevance.

So, imagine my relieved joy when we discovered The Arkell Museum in Canajoharie, about an hour drive west from the studio. A small and unassuming building, it houses the painting collection of Bartlett Arkell who founded the Beech-Nut Company.  Paintings of beauty, luscious color, light, form and provocative subjects. Wow. Amongst the Homers, the Bentons, the Wyeths and the O'Keefes were some amazing artists I'm not familiar with.

For example: the stunning snowscapes of Walter Launt Palmer:

 I thought this was masterful...

...as well as this special exhibit by artist Jay Connaway:

I've stood on the stormy shore and nervously felt these ominous waves:

Powerful and compelling, these paintings inspire me to become a be a better painter.

Call me a boring traditionalist,
Sharon

The Sound of Change

SWOOSH!

That's the sound of change infiltrating the unwary, the unprepared. Like it or not, change is a natural law and comforting in a lip-biting sort of way. One sure thing to know in life is that nothing remains static and change in all forms is inevitable.

I welcome change. I enjoy being immersed in a constant state of flux. Is it a characteristic of the artistic temperament or just my own restless personality?

I've moved out of Ocala, Florida. As much as I adored hanging my hat there, my suitcase now sits on a shelf in Saratoga Springs, New York.  Although my Florida-bred cats may take issue, I'm thrilled for this drastic change. As a native New Englander, I'm embracing the change of seasons in myriad ways.

There is a long list of reasons for this decision. But that was then and this is now. Let's get on with the work, the play, the events, the new friends, my goals and the looming opportunities. I'll share with you what I learn along the way.

I know you're wondering...yes, I've purchased a warm down coat and the accompanying warm accessories.

Love, Sharon

Where the hell am I going?

For certain, I'll be in Saratoga Springs, NY for the entire race meet, July 22nd through Sept. 5th. If I've appeared vague regarding my immediate plans to any of you, accept my apologies. The spiritual gurus instruct about the importance of maintaining secrecy when intending and visualizing. Eliminates the well-meaning from undo influence and frankly, relieves the pressure as paths veer off their original course. No explanations required.

Purging through all those photographs last week became more than good housekeeping. Surprising emotions emerged. I got all existential. The past appeared happier with fun times with more adventure and closer relationships. Clearly, I was following my bliss and living a passionate life. Or was I? From a position of struggling to survive the financial hardships of the recession (and still recovering) is anything looking better than what is, including what was and how I now perceive it?

My Saratoga landlady has offered the apartment to us beyond the end of the race meet. I'm considering. The cool, clean air and pungent earthy scent of autumn may clear this undefinable bleariness. So, my dear readers, I may stay longer at the fair.

"Go for it now. The future is promised to no one." -  Wayne W. Dyer

My Wish for Everyone 2011

Can you feel it? It's a 'tude, a revival, inspiring. A collective focus on the positive that's palpable and exciting. So many of us are relieved to begin fresh in 2011 with expectations of a better everything...therefore...the law of attraction MUST make it so.

Here's to new beginnings. May you all be wealthier, healthier, fitter, smarter and more loving.

"Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right." - Oprah Winfrey

6 Things I've Learned in 2010

Instead of the usual yearly list of "What I Did" accomplishments for 2010, I thought I'd make a bit of a shift in my thinking and contemplate "What I've Learned: 2010". For your thoughts and comments as well:

 1. Persistence is key if you have ambition without resources. Goals are attainable with a bulldogged mindset and focus, but it does require...time. It takes longer to launch a project requiring capital and the lack of funding means the components must be executed in affordable increments. So, my multi-canvas pieces are created on carefully graphed paper and gradually constructed as my budget allows. That's okay because I know if I stay firmly committed to my ideas, they'll come to fruition eventually. They always do, even if they're stacked up in the sky like commercial aircraft on holding patterns.

2. Less is more. I'm living the simple life through necessity, not choice. The recent recession took away a lot of things from me. Yet in the present moment, I have everything I need. That's empowering. When you finally realize that the latest gadget with unlimited apps will never fulfill your basic longings, life takes on a new clarity. I choose to stay connected to the life force surrounding me, not the things.

3. I know who I am as an artist. I am finally aware of what drives my urge to create. I possess vision that is uniquely mine. Although I'm not 100% sure of the source, I recognize that speed, motion and direction inspires me and I can express passion in my paintings without succumbing to sentimentality. Take that, all you romantics!

4. I'm good enough. Although we as artists constantly strive to achieve excellence which is a healthy goal, we must also balance a respect for our own accomplishments, intellect and abilities. A self-pat on the back is reassuring and makes us a little less crazy. I'm doin' okay. And you're doin' okay.

5. A strong support system is imperative. My husband, friends, family, peers, and neighbors provide encouragement and bolster strength. Yes, I will disappoint. Sometimes the more you do the more is expected. I am making amends to those that deserve it. Integrity compels me to do what is right and good even though...life lessons happen. When I become anxious and impatient, affirming this truth sets me back on the path to acknowledging my divinity. Thank you, thank you God.

6. Goals for 2011? Of course I have a business plan in place that evolves as necessary. I'm learning to relinquish my iron fist control (just a little) as I accept that I work too hard, try too hard, never sleep enough and never play hard enough. Where's my canoe?

"Stand in the middle of a crisis to invite the next stage of evolution to appear." - Michael Bernard Beckwith