My Muse and I Strike a Deal

With the word “CREATE” at the helm of my 2019 journey I needed to plot out map, a course of action, in order for this concept to transition into something concrete.   As many of you know, my hubby, Big Rich, and I split our time between Los Angeles and Arizona.  The desert is always our go to place to regroup, reset and to escape the heaviness of the city.  There is a calming energy about the raw Mohave desert, whether it be a cold windy wintery day or the blazing searing heat of the summer, its wide open skies spanning across the expanse of rugged desert terrain and barren mountains command a reference to an energy and life source beyond a tangible definition.  It is the perfect place, devoid of the chaos of the city, in which to rekindle my relationship with my muse.

Let’s rewind a little bit, to a time long ago, when I was a little girl, who constantly doodled on everything, walls, cupboards, floors….any surface would do!   A time where freedom reigned and imagination and creative expression were without restraint.  She doodled and scribbled and painted and sculpted, glued and cut, built and explored with any medium available to her.   My muse and I were one.  No separation- one entity where imagination and play were in charge of the day and stops were only out of the necessity to eat and sleep.  My muse, of course, was removed from the driver’s seat as I entered school where schedules and rules were paramount and the comparison of ability became the norm.  We managed to coexist though out my childhood and early teen years.  When I selected Art as an option in Junior High School, my muse was elated.  She had the opportunity to experiment with oil, acrylic and water color paints and she was hooked!  I begged my Mom to buy some “real” paints, the kind of paints “artists” used and canvases like the artists used.  We negotiated and she agreed to starter sets of oil, acrylic, and water color paints as well as a set of multi-purpose art brushes, but the  buck stopped at the expensive canvas, which would be swapped out for cut up wall board in a variety of sizes.  (Yes, the wallboard that was in every rumpus room in the 70’s, THAT wallboard)  Impossible to paint on the finished side where the fake wall lines ran down the front in the appearance of vertical panels, however the unfinished back side had potential.  It was rough and textured but with enough primer it smoothed out enough to do the trick.  In fact, the texture offered some interesting displays of brush stroke and color.   I painted in our basement, oftentimes staring at the existing wallboard paneling erected around me to form living space where the kids hung out, where we played records and goofed around. 

I never took another formal art class other than the one in Junior High.  Entering high school my option choices were practical and sensible to complement the academic stream in which I was enrolled– typing,  shorthand, accounting, etc.  Fortuitously, the step father of my boyfriend at the time was an artist who painted oil landscapes (to my relief many of his first drafts were painted on the back of wallboard, too!).  He allowed me to observe him many times and even let me paint alongside him once or twice.  This was exhilarating to me, I learned so much in those few sessions. My muse twirled, cartwheeled and jumped for joy.   I took what I  learned and went back to my painting with renewed energy and focus.  I even submitted one of my landscape paintings into an art show. My muse approved.   Nobody purchased it, but I was vetted and was able to submit which meant the world to me (my muse not so much).

As life would have it, I broke up with my boyfriend and started seeing someone who wasn’t on board with my muse.  Initially, he was impressed with her, however, as control became an issue in the relationship  he became threatened by her free spirit and when she expressed her need to create, he scoffed and belittled her.  Interestingly, I married this man and to this day am curious why I would make such a choice (but that is another long story still yet to be told).   What is important to know is  my muse suffered terribly and I allowed her to be punished.  The only saving grace she had was the creative expression she was allowed when I entered the teaching arena and incorporated art across the curriculum.  Rarely a day went by when art was not incorporated during the day.  My muse had  a lot of fun creating with my students and, oh how my students loved her back!  Sadly, I didn’t pick up a paint brush for my own creative expression again until I was 50 years old.  I had retired from teaching (the first time) and married Big Rich and moved to Los Angeles.  I had high hopes my muse would be dancing in the streets, doing her “thang” with free reign, but she was wounded and lost and it took a great deal of work for her to feel safe enough to begin to make her mark.  We worked together in unison for about a year, produced a couple of nice products, but any little excuse set us off track.  The biggest mistake we made was allowing the opinion of others interfere with the process.   There is chunk of time I am skipping over to get back to where I am today-  a chunk of time that deserves to stand alone in yet another story.

Back to today.  I have come up with a plan to participate in a 3-4 day painting retreat in our desert home once per month.  A space of time where I focus only on painting, where my muse and I exchange turns in the driver’s seat while respecting the necessity for some clear navigation.  What we produce is not important.  What is important is that we create something…..anything!  It is not a matter of skill or techinique or talent.  It is a matter of releasing and honoring the innate desire to explore and experiment, to simply CREATE.  The benchmark goal holding us accountable is my muse and I will compile a collection of twelve creations by the end of 2019.   We are on an collaborative artsy road trip to make it happen!   We have already completed our first creation of 2019……we had a bit of a rocky time, with an unwelcomed guest who overstayed her visit, but we did it!!   I will share the details of that story and what we created with you next time.