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Almost every visitor to my home-based Studio & Art Gallery is awed by the amount of artwork they get to see:

First, visitors likely notice the paintings I've mounted on the outside of the house. And, in warm weather, perhaps the 20 or more pieces that I've hung in the Summer Gallery (garage). Then, coming inside, they see the 16 or so smaller paintings on display (on either side of the steps leading up to my Winter Studio. The Studio itself—particularly at this time of year—is crowded with Works in Progress. (Right now, WIPs hanging around my easel around number 12 or 13 in various sizes from 16 x 20 to 36 x 60 inches.)

Having enjoyed my (perpetually messy) work station, there's still much more to see downstairs on the first floor. "Anywhere you see a light on, feel free to look," I tell my guests. Indeed, throughout the kitchen, dining, living rooms and what we call the Dancing Parlour, one can choose from among another 50 large and small artworks the right and perfect paintings for them. And then there's the basement ....

"You're so prolific!" my visitors exclaim. And, yes, I do paint a lot. Earlier in my painting career, when I focused on small paintings, I would produce at least 75-100 studies each year, probably more. (Not all were "keepers," but a lot of them did make it to someone's wall.) My desire to paint in larger formats has been in part a response to spend more time with each piece and now I produce only about 50 paintings in different sizes. But, still, when you paint as much as I do, you need the kind of basement (with plenty of storage slots) I have. I love giving my visitors the choice of many works from which to select a piece that's just right for the spot they have in mind.

A good number of my Studio visitors are other artists. Many of them bemoan the fact that while they wish they could, they don't paint enough. Many complain: "I don't have the time." Or, "I don't have the space."  Or, "I can't get motivated." Some, recognizing these as excuses, admit they are simply afraid of what might happen if they did paint—they might not be good enough. Or, they harbor a very deeply buried concern—they might be better than they thought.

While at times it feels like I'm torturing them, I love inspiring the artists to deal with whatever it is that apparently blocks their artistic expression. I want them to at least give themselves the chance to find out what art might want to flow through them.  The more you paint, I tell them, the more you will learn to make better art. Making  lots of paintings and what you learn from making them is key to fulfilling your potential as an artist.

I inspire myself each day by seeing the paintings I've already made. Then, I pick up a brush and get to work. Something unexpected invariably happens. Sometimes I try too hard and make something I don't like. But, then, in frustration, I don't try at all and something brilliant occurs. It's not about making perfect paintings, it's often about forgiving my attempts to block the art that wants to be made by me—about letting go and letting God create through me.

One vital key to my ability to make a lot of paintings is a dedicated space in which to make them. I encourage any artist who's frustrated with their output to examine the conditions under which they're trying to work. It's not impossible to make art in tight quarters, but making the effort to create more space for your creating is often a sign of a growing commitment. Over the 17 years I've been painting, it's been an increasing priority to enlarge the spaces—physical, mental and emotional—the spiritual practice of my art seems to require.

The rewards of prolific painting have been many—you can check out the SOLD section on my website to see some of the many that have gone to live in other homes. Once I'd made enough paintings that I could enjoy, it became natural to show them to others. In the early days of my first home shows, generous friends purchased my work. Later, as confidence in my work grew, I offered my art to a wider public in gallery shows. Now, I enjoy sharing my work in a variety of settings, including most recently, the installation BIRDS FLY IN: A Human Refuge. In this exhibit, described by many visitors as "moving" and "powerful," I've found a way to integrate overarching art ideas in a very large way. (If you missed it this summer, you'll have another opportunity at the Dennos Museum, September-December, 2021!)

For the way it encourages me to do my art every day—and the ease with which I can do so—I still love my home-based Studio & Gallery. As winter (and the reality of more Covid-related confinement) approaches, I look forward to painting. It's true, there may be fewer visitors, but there will be a lot more paintings and I will find creative ways to share them with you. I invite you to get ready today for whatever is to come by making space in your life for art and art-making—for you too can immerse yourself in bright ideas and colors that will bring about a greater good in our world.

With All Best Wishes for your Art & Life,

Ellie

I know, I know! Painting—it's supposed to be about Art for Its Own Sake, right? Or, wait, is it really about Matching the Sofa? Or, maybe it's Something In-Between. Or, None of the Above?

Can you tell I'm missing my installation BIRDS FLY IN: A Human Refuge?

Don't get me wrong: Making new work is lovely! I'm grateful for the beautiful studio space I get to work in. I'm happy that my collectors appreciate and support my art-making. However, none of these fill the space in which 1500 visitors recently and actively immersed themselves in the Art I'd been compelled to create for the past 4 years.

I've discovered a hunger for largeness and interactivity similar, perhaps, to what Monet might have felt when he created his monumental water lilies and sought spaces in which to display them. Several years ago in Paris, I had the opportunity to sit in one of these exhibits.  We missed the larger installation at the Orangerie; however, we discovered that the Musée Marmottan Monet, a small private museum in the Bois de Bologne, also houses a modest version of Monet's water lilies in one of their display spaces.

I still remember how it felt to sit on a polished wooden bench surrounded by these paintings! Perhaps, it was that memory that inspired the octagonal bench—painstakingly crafted by Roo and finished by Dan—that serves as the central seating area of BIRDS FLY IN. In any case, sitting down in that intimate space to commune with those paintings, only a small fraction of Monet's magnificent artistic output, felt so good, so right, so moving—feeling in a similar way, perhaps, to the visitors who reported to me after their experience of the BIRDS FLY IN exhibit at the Oliver Art Center installation.

So, yes, I'm very sad there is not currently any similar public space in which to view BIRDS FLY IN. And I've been wallowing a bit in my impatience to find the "next right thing" for the multidimensional ART+MUSIC=POETRY phenomenon, a collaboration that produced an exhibit that originated with me, but became so much larger than I'd envisioned. I struggle to not take it as a personal failure that first attempts to get this show on the road have not yielded the results I desire. Because, in reality, even as I write this, there are eggs in the nest waiting to hatch in their own good time:

• Heather F., a collector in Pittsburgh has reached out to promote BIRDS FLY IN to an arts organization she identified as a possible good fit. While I helped her craft the letter and will certainly follow up, she's undertaken this on her own initiative. I'm so thankful!
• Anne McE., another supporter, president of an international Foundation, met with me in Frankfort a few weeks ago to show me possible ways to bring the exhibit to San Diego/Tijuana, MX. She's assured me that  if I can nail down a venue, she will find the funds to cover the transport and installation costs for BIRDS.
• On Anne's suggestion, David Mendoza has written to the curator of the cultural center in Tijuana with a proposal for our project. There's other follow up I can do.
• Phil Deloria, a Frankfort neighbor and one of the Heavy Lifters who helped construct the Refuge Structure (who also happens to be a Professor at Harvard), has agreed to write a critical review essay for the full-color catalogue that will be ready in the Spring.  (More about this another time ....)
• And, another Friend of BFI has created a powerful pitch letter intended for  CBS Sunday Morning in advance of the 2021 exhibit at the Dennos Museum.
• 1500 visitors and others who are processing their experience of the project may be receiving further ideas for effective action that no one knows about yet!

Writing this, I'm not feeling quite as pathetic as I have been! Like Matisse, one reason I paint is to understand myself. (It's also why I write.) My frustration, I realize,  is born in thoughts of uncertainty and doubt that result from expecting things to happen—not in the fullness of time—but on my relatively tight and demanding schedule. I once read (and it seems true to my experience),  "God speaks to us, moment by moment, in the language of what happens." Listening carefully, then, as if to David Mendoza's healing music, when you least expect it, birds fly in. 

Keep well!

Ellie

P.S. Please feel free to share your ideas with me in the Comments below or directly by email.

The summer has zipped by and I've not written a blog for several months. My apologies! Blogging is one of the best ways I know to share my artistic process. But it requires me to structure a contemplative space in which to gather my thoughts. My involvement with the BIRDS FLY IN: A Human Refuge project has been all-consuming, especially during the period in August/September when the installation was active at the Oliver Art Center here in Frankfort, MI.

Still, I've managed to paint a fair amount and also to give (in the middle of all the activity) two really powerful workshops! With five women in each one, we honored COVID safety protocols and dove deep into an exploration of my Intuitive Approach to Painting. I sense a book wanting to emerge from the material I shared, so stay tuned ....

The installation was amazing! 1500 (+/-) people navigated the pandemic to visit BIRDS. Every day one or more of them would come to my Studio & Gallery to share their experience, many with tears still in their eyes. It's unusual for an artist to get such direct and meaningful feedback from their work. I feel incredibly fortunate to have had this opportunity to create art on such a large scale and one that allowed people to actually step into and sit within the creation. One day I went to have the experience myself and found the experience of being enveloped in the art, music, poetry and shoes was a powerful one. 

Collaborating with other artists has been good for me! I particularly valued the opportunity to co-create with Diane Frederick, our videographer. She did a great job translating hours of video footage into a moving and beautiful visual tour of the exhibit. If you haven't seen it, I hope you'll take a moment to enjoy her lovely "First Flight" right now.

As compelling as this project continues to be—one future installation is on the books and another in the planning stages—I am still very excited to embark on new painting adventures. Who knows what will emerge?! Not me, not now— but I'm extremely curious to know what the Artist Within has in store for my art as I get back in my Winter Studio.

Again, I hope you'll stay tuned!

With warm wishes,

Ellie