Bully

I'm going to dive into a topic that is.....well, difficult. It's difficult because I have to admit to an ugly side of myself. 
But, then again, I think it's a side we all share. 
I would suppose that most of you have heard about the young girl, Amanda Todd, who was a victim of bullying and took her own life last week. Her story has galvanized the world right now - and the spotlight is shining on the toxic behaviour of bullying. And just how tragic the result can be.
I'd like to speak about my own experience with this. 
Let me start by saying I'm often amazed by the saccharine espousal of many about the innocence and loveliness of childhood. Perhaps I'm coloured by my own rather bleak time back there but mostly I remember the horrific terrorizing we kids perpetrated upon each other. Boys would pulverize each other with more blood than a chain saw horror flick; girls would whip each other with their skipping ropes to the point of raising welts. Jeezus, we were Lord of the Flies personified.
Here's where my dark confession comes out. I was a part of the systematic bullying of a young girl back in Grade 4. For some inexplicable reason 'Betty' was singled out by the class for taunts and name calling....brutal kid crap that tears apart anyone who has been in that particular hell. What was it about this girl that made her such a target? Who knows......the victims of abuse are picked for the most obscure of reasons. But I was swept up in the complicit condoning of picking on her. I knew it was wrong. But I also remember being immeasurably relieved it wasn't me as the target. 
I often recall her breaking down in class one day when the taunts just became too much. 
And the shame I felt. 
But I never spoke up. 
I think this is the scariest part of this ugly behaviour - that so many are afraid to speak out. We are afraid to become the target ourselves. 
And I did become a target. 
In High School - Grade 9 if memory serves, I became the unwanted focus of a boyfriend that was very angry when I broke up with him. I ended our 'relationship' (and that's in quotes because who the hell has a relationship at 14) because he was physically abusing me - oh, the feeling of cringing shame to admit that I allowed him to take me into dark garages and even one time, the crawlspace of a local corner store so that he could screw me. His way of punishing me for finally refusing him was to line up his buddies beside the door I walked out of to head home after school. When I emerged through those doors, they began to cat call and taunt me with the cries and hisses of "Slut, hair pie, ugly bitch" as I walked by. 
I will never forget the absolute horror I felt walking those steps. The mind numbing, blood draining, horror as I knew everyone was watching and listening. 
For the next 3 months I would hide after school in whatever place I could find until 5 o'clock - making absolutely sure no one was around before I started out for home.
There was nobody I could turn to - girls were judged VERY harshly for that kind of behaviour back then in the late 60's and no other girl wanted to be associated with me. I became the pariah. I recall being abjectly lonely for a long time. 
Is there a point to my story? I'm not sure what I can say - I think that sometimes it just feels so hopeless to know this base brutality still goes on - I mean Gr. 9 was 45 years ago for crying out loud! And Gr. 4 was even longer than that...! But bullying still goes on. Is it a part of our ugly human side to pick on others? The saddest thing to realize in all this is people who bully are victims of bullying themselves. 
I live in hope that we can be better.

The painting: "The Bully" by Willem Van Mieris, 1638. There you go, we've been acting dishonourably for quite some time apparently.

Coo-EE! Here I am!

Did you wonder? Or was it just another blogger gone south as far as you could see......well, I have to admit that my 'bloggy blab' has dried up of late and I was pretty much feeling a real disconnect with the whole thing. After a while it just becomes onerous to have to think of something new and hopefully interesting to post about. I mean, even with a mind as twisty and a life as bizarro as mine often seems, even I run out of things to say.

And thank all the powers that is so, right? (*snort*)

However, you can count on one constant behaviour > I will always be painting something. 

So here it is....the newest one. If you recall, I've been trying to incorporate a 'beachy' type of theme into my paintings, in the hope of engendering some west coast kind of feel and, more truthfully, some sales. 

We shall see. 

Title: FETCH - Acrylic 36 X 42 

The Fool On The Hill and Everywhere Else...

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you’re going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you’re crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
Oh, yeah, we're cool. Hanging on to Dignity by a slim thread. 
I did this the other day - well, truthfully, I was completely lost in my world of I-haven't-a-clue-where-I'm-going and was walking around like this for the better part of an hour - no, seriously. I even had a map. Sadder still. Then, to top it off with a cherry of subtle nut-job, I asked a store owner the street I needed. Except it was the wrong street. By the time my are-you-sure-you-have-one brain got that detail figured out and reversed direction to go back to whence we started; I had to walk by that store owner again, by the way; almost an hour had gone by. 
It defies belief that I have lived this long.
Anywhatagoofway, all this had me musing on crazy behaviours we do when we are feeling foolish. 
You know you do them. That strange action that supposedly proves you actually meant what you were doing or have a great reason why you were doing it. 
I think it might be better just to laugh uproariously and carry on. I have to add that I'm getting pretty used to Dignity leaving me faster than fleas from a  washed dog. Witness my sitting in a 'farting' chair at the local Arts Society meeting. I'm the President. Supposedly occupying a position of note. Chairing (oh the irony!) the monthly meeting. Meanwhile the chair I'm in has one of those unfortunate cushions that emit embarrassing sounds whenever you move. Basically I lost it and collapsed in one of those 'laughing-so-hard-I'm-in-danger-of-doing-something-else-even-more-embarrassing' moments. I don't think anyone else was as amused as I. 
What the hey-ho. Might as well laugh.
And perhaps choose another chair.
The illustration is an vintage Postcard from 1910 about April Fool's Day. I happen to love that she has this come-hither smile while carrying a dead fish.
Awesome!

* * * YA-A-A-a-a-a-awn * * *

Greatjawsnappinggasps is there anything more tedious than the self indulgent confessions and carrying-ons of someone going through some 'thing'......just like yours truly over this last month. 

You may have noticed those indulgent posts are now removed.....thank the gods. 
And, truly, what did it serve? I think I lost 3/4 of my readership (3 people). 
Ah, such is the price of.........narcissism.
Moving right along, let's talk about some Art, shall we? 
While down in the town last month, I did some Gallery cruising. Be pretty silly not to have....huh. Anywearesofumblingforthingstosayway, what I observed is there is a decided bent to two 'camps', if you will. The 'camp' of traditional, ie: Landscapes, Still Life, and such like. And the 'camp' of Abstract. Now if there is one genre of painting that gets most folks reacting in vast and often strangely adamant ways, it's Abstract Art. They generally feel, unless they LOVE it, that any kindergartener could do as well and they will let you know this in no uncertain terms. Anyone can 'sploodge' a bunch of paint across a canvas! The reality is that good, and I mean GOOD, abstract painting is very very difficult to accomplish. There has to be a decided knowledge of how colour and shape and line work and then to translate that into a cohesive whole. It is pure 'feeling'. And as with all Art, not everyone will understand that 'feeling'. I saw some pretty awesome paintings in those aforementioned Galleries. But the ones I'm carrying around in my head - the ones that really resonated with me and made me wish I could paint like that - were the abstracts. 
Isn't that a turn up for the books. (sorry-that's some wierdy English expression that I just find so great and was dying to use and look I did!)
Being a painter pretty firmly grounded in the realm of realism - albeit in a symbolistic way - I think this draw towards abstract painting intriguing. Perhaps it's the use of saturated colour or shape that pulls me....not sure exactly why. 
Does this mean I will be changing my style? No, don't think so (however- we do know the wisdom of never saying never) I'm getting recognized for what I do so to change the horse in mid stream is most likely not the best direction to take. 
But I might play with it!
There's the thing of being creative : you can mix it up if you want. 
Yay!

The photograph accompanying this post is by Louise Dahl Wolfe and titled "Beauty". 
I'd have called it "Narcissus". 

ps...ah....back in the land of 'dial-up'.....oh, how I've missed the NOTHING ABOUT IT AT ALL! Sheesh.

Oh Say Can You See

 I've come to realize that we share a strange, sometimes inexplicable phenomenon and that is the inability to really see ourselves. Well, maybe "inexplicable" is not quite the right term because if you think for a moment there are so many things that 'put the blinders on' our eyes. Of course , I can only really talk about my own experience and that is one deeply immersed in the waters of being a woman and the spirits know we women are almost schooled from birth to have a really messed up viewpoint about ourselves. However, as I walk about this beautiful city that I'm currently inhabiting - I see all these vastly interesting and hugely intriguing people all around me. But I'll give you dollars to donuts they are pretty much all feeling 'wrong'. (why I'd want to pay you a dollar for a donut escapes me - just like that saying does, but it does roll off the tongue like oil on a hot pan - and here we go again.....) 

Ok, moving right along before the brain can go down another rabbit hole - I think that we all mess up the visuals with so much 'other' our actual true picture gets lost. 

And why am I blithering on about this, well you may ask.

I had this brought home to me last week when I sat down and drew myself. My own face - not my mother's, not my usual 'made-up ones, not some old photograph. Nope, me looking in a mirror. And I was completely taken aback when I saw that I am really quite beautiful. 

You'd think as an artist that I'd be able to 'see' this but I haven't. And it made me think of all the countless times I have looked in a mirror and voiced those demeaning epithets to myself "you old bag; bleah, you look like shit" etc etc etc. How many times have I heard my friends say "Ugh! I hate myself in pictures."

No wonder. 

It has me musing on portrait paintings and the fact the vast amount of them are all pretty much geared to making the subject look swell. Putting aside the reason for doing so may have been you wanted the money for your work so it behooved you to 'tart it up'. Or that the model chosen was already visually pleasing, I'd say what we see just might not be a true picture.  There are very few artists that really give you all the warts - so to speak - Frida Khalo and Van Gogh come to mind - but if you look at contemporary portraiture it pretty much is still those visually 'pretty' visages. And may I add, that, yes, old men are often a subject matter but we seem to be more able to accept the craggy face time has given them so much more than women.

Anyjustputaframearounditway, I'm kinda going all over the map with this, aren't I. I think what I want to say is that I need to try to 'see' better. Let's try to get past those worn out tapes and start realizing what an incredible and vast canvas we are - the colors! the shapes! What a feast for the senses. I know I'm going to view the folks around me differently and try to envision how I'd paint them.......who knows where this will take me......

The Painting is by Jenny Saville and boy oh boy do I LOVE this young woman's work! She's well worth a Google

How fleeting our time upon this Earth.....

Life, as we are so aware, can change in the blink of an eye. For many of us it comes in joyous forms of news or maybe a move somewhere or perhaps a windfall of an unexpected gift.

But along with those good and welcome entities we must be ready for the unwelcome words of the passing of a friend or family member. 
Suddenly it seems the world stops and you are left in a place that is filled with heartbreak. It brings you up short. The world becomes fragile and our life upon it so brief. 
Today I found out a very dear and immeasurably talented friend had passed away yesterday. She was close to my age - that, as well, makes one pause - and I am so stunned by the news. 
We know we will absorb the sorrow and continue on, but right now the light just dimmed. 
Gael, this is for you:

The stars I gaze upon seem different since that day,
While one shines brighter, another fades away,
You light up the winter sky, the moon at your command,
Convinced you didn't mean it, but your soul had different plans.

This is truth calling, makes its way to me,
And this is love falling, falling at our feet.

She was your sister, your neighbour, she was your daughter, your carer.
She was your mother, your sharer, she was your friend, your lover.

The bowing heads of many hold your image in their minds,
The endless search for answers occupy the time,
Gazing at the pictures, with eyes they fail to see
Why in a moment, robbed of reason, you embraced eternity.

   --A song by Capercaillie, the Scottish band.

Tales from the Road - part 1

OLA AMIGOS! 
No, no,  not in a foreign clime but the weather has been super enough to feel like I've arrived in a more southerly location and since that actually is true, well, here we are! Took me 3 hours yesterday to move into my little 'home away from home' and I'm feeling pretty perky about the whole darn thing so far. The BIG news is I went out and purchased a laptop - why, in all that is computer-ishy, did it take me so long to get on board with this little gem of technology? (you realize that's a rhetorical question, right?) Mind you I still keep looking for the darn mouse - and am feeling 'out of touch' when confronted by the simplest things - such as walking back to the store this morning to ask why the screen was just dead - yeah, you got it - we were shown the button up top to push so the laptop turned on. *sigh* Did I mention how so not techy we are? I also forgot the camera cord to hook into this machine so that I can download pics....always something. But, the speed! The ease of transport! The cool stuff I can access now that WI-FI is all around me!  
Anygeekingoutway, I've 'put up' all the paintings I brought with me, (no hooks in the wall so we've "strategically" placed) - really, Art improves EVERYTHING - and there's a jacuzzi tub which just about signals heaven to this old gal. We're close to downtown for all my appointments and truly, within walking distance of all sorts of great things - waterfront, park, funky shops and galleries, cool little neighborhoods etc etc etc. Oh pinch me!  
Yes, I'd move in a heartbeat.
That's 'bout it for now - I'm still in the 'honeymoon' phase with all this. We'll update next week - who knows what'll happen by then.......(oh, cue the dun,dun,dun...)