Expressions In The Arts

I crossed paths with an acquaintance of mine during a grocery store run. She is a fellow artist and it seems whenever we meet, we have lengthy chats about our recent ventures and struggles to "get our artwork out there". I have never seen her artwork, but for some reason, her and I have this relaxed understanding between us that confirms my nagging belief in reestablishing a meeting place for hungry artists. Hungry for reassurance, inspiration, motivation and a place to show and tell our tales of expression and strip away the layers; hiding our soul's intention.

In fact, I know and have met many creative souls that are always eager to talk with me about their craft because I love to listen. It's fascinating when I hear the language of spontaneous art. It is the emotional songs in our conversation that sing about intangible, imaginative and moving moments that can only be captured by the artist's mind and eye. Beautiful, irrational, ghostly, fleeting, timeless, raw and sometimes unintentional.

In the next few months I will dig through the files of "someday" folders and place them in the "today" pile. A few years ago I nurtured an idea and it was called Expressions In The Arts and was followed up by my monthly newsletter called The Artisan Article. The way I see it as the days unfold, the HUMAN spirit is in GREAT DEMAND!! A thread of ideas, forging community spirit, and creative ingenuity. Not just art, but a forum for inspiration, uplifting escape and personal expression. I'm sorry and tired of hiding and pausing my talents and good intentions. I can sing, I can speak, but I lost my courage somehow.

Courage: (noun) mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty

Got it!

Up To My Elbows

Dirty dishes in my sink
Gives me time to stop and think...
What it means to wash a glass, a mug, a spoon, a plate and knife
Contributes to your well-being and purpose to my mundane life.

I don't like doing the dishes. Other days I hate it. My emotions fight it every time it is time. See? I'm here at the computer, instead of washing the morning dishes. It only takes about ten minutes or so, but it feels like an agonizing endless chore. I did time myself once or twice using the microwave clock-timer. I set the countdown at ten minutes and I raced through the whole pile give or take a few seconds.

Now a good stack of anxiety could consist of about four to five dinner plates, five glasses, several cereal/icecream bowls and assorted utensils. Throw in a coffee mug, some of those Chinese take-out bowls that accumulate even though you just want to throw away, and of course, a greasy frying pan with matching flipper. If I can arrange and rinse the mess in some sort of order on the counter before I begin, the roar and growling from irritated food particles isn't as audible. I robotically fill up the stainless steel sink with hot water, add about seven or eight squirts of liquid soap, swish, swirl and animate my sculpture of suds. There's no turning back now.

I have the classic set-up. My back is to the room and I have a window with a view. A view of the driveway, old mother tree, and the tree lined road. Like I said, I have the classic set-up. My back is turned, I am banished; facing a spotted and smudged, cobweb laden window. My anguish soars along the tree lined road hoping someone will rescue me.

I don't slip into latex gloves like some ladies. Indeed I have a pair. I even bought the hot pink Playtex ones over the yellow thinking I could fool myself to add whimsy to my cleaning experience, but I really only use them for the real scrub jobs. This is a ten minute dig compared to a hour scourge in the bathtub but that's another story.

Dishes stacked. Check. Sleeves rolled up. Check. Nose is itched. Check. My hands glide into the steaming water and my thoughts drift through the window screen as suds stick and roll along my hands and arms. If I hurry, I'm sure I'll break something, but if I can focus on the diligent rhythm of dip, swirl, dip, swirl, stack, rinse, stack, then this task will not reach that nerve. So in the words of the famous zen master, Thich Nhat Hanh, "The time of dishwashing is as important as the time of meditation. That is why the everyday mind is called the Buddha's mind." (from Present Moment Wonderful Moment Mindfulness Verses for Daily Living)

The moment arrives when the last orphan spoon shines in the running water and plops into the draining cup. Down goes the water. Down goes the soap. I'm free! I'm free! I have put aside all traces from my transcedental meditational session, and I turn around to embrace my release. I whisper never to wash another thing for the rest of my life and then I gasp and witness my youngest son filling up a clean glass with refreshing, cold milk. "Thanks Mom!" Ah Heaven.

What More Do You Want? A Political Statement

(a letter to an Obama supporter)



Can you convince me that democracy will still stay in place and I'm not going to have to share MORE of my hard earned income and wealth (peace of mind) with lazy asses that collect welfare and sit in front of a computer all day upgrading their My Space (They've got satelite TV, cellphones, jewelry, drugs, nails, and fresh tattoos) and then listen to how they're really hurtin' and can't wait for the free stuff Obama's gonna give 'em. Y'know, that white collar computer nerd, stock broker, engineer, pharmacist "employer" just bought me Christmas dinner, gave me a raise and a 401K option so I can support a family. Who else is gonna do that? Joe Schmo, the union president, taking his 5th cigarette break and figuring out how he's going to stick it to the man, fuck over his fellow co-workers and fake some "on the job" disability? I certainly don't want any hand outs from the Government, although the economic stimulus package was helpful, but SURPRISE! you only got it if you paid taxes! People have to take care of themselves. We don't need a president who is going to coddle lazy people with more government programs. We already have Medicaid, and don't even get me started on Medicare and Social Security that I contribute to every week. I never met so many wealthy unhappy, unappreciative, selfish seniors in my life! "Whadda mean my monthly co-pay is ten dollars? My entre at Red Lobster is only $9.99!"

Tell me that I can proudly still hold on to my guns and religion, that I don't have to watch the family unit be mocked by trans gender legalized gay marriages, that the freedoms we enjoy today, like walking in a mall, visiting a historic site, traveling abroad, like to the Grand Canyon (lol) isn't going to be diminished because for the last eight years, we haven't had a single bombing incident on American soil. Please don't be one of those nuts who believes Rosie O'Donnell. Wasn't the National Guard in Louisiana for "the storm of the century?" See what happens when you have a real leader there that says, "Either you get the fuck out (evacuate), or you're screwed." And in came the buses. We've got a kick ass military, let's keep it that way, and let me tell you what, I want them over there on the offensive in the Middle East keeping an eye on those fuckers and helping the Iraq people live freely, kids play, people shop, eat, dress, speak their minds. We take it all for granted here.

And who the hell are these 21st Century 20 something anarchists breaking the law in MN? Get a fuckin' job you wayward brat! They've got is so bad. Did Mommy forget to put the jelly on both sides of the bread?

It's 3am...and I know where my children are, we are a proud hard working, law abiding contributors to our community, and this country. My DH works for a municipality with all its BS, but it puts food on the table, shelter over our heads, gas in our cars, health coverage, and all the other necessities we need to live and be . I work for a pharmacist who owns several properties, drives a nice car, has a fuckin beautiful Jag, doesn't know how to hold a hammer, but he's awesome to work for! I wish I made more money, but it's my choice to stay and work there. I could've gone and finished college, but I didn't. I'm not going to blame the government for my life! So we live within our means and when all is said and done, we're content because as you know, it's not ever about things. I do wish for you plenty of success and wealth as you pursue your happiness. See you at the polls.

“My friends, we live in the greatest nation in the history of the world. I hope you’ll join with me as we try to change it.” ~ Barack Obama

Call It What You Want

During my earlier artistic endeavors, I illustrated and colored spirited and spontaneous designs of color and shape. It was very freeing to create. Controlled doodling, really.

Applying myself to that natural response, I completed this 12" x 18" colored pencil piece that you see. I was pleased to pursue my play and make mini frame and focus areas mounted for notecards. An amusing way to stimulate more expressive possibilities. Call it what you want.

Righting the Writer

I have a lot of journals, notebooks, steno pads, sketchbooks gathered in piles, stacked in boxes, leaning in shelves and I know there is a constellation of meaning to them. This morning, as I rocked up from my bed, I grabbed three and flipped through the intended words and thoughtful works inside. Sometimes it is very sad to read my inner struggles from five or more years ago as they catch up with the ones that are still haunting me. Some demons are more imagined than real.


There is a line in one of my writings that prompted this entry. It is a sigh to the Lord.

Cloak me in your shield of light.
Save me from my imagined turmoil.
Is the Devil going to be as determined to keep me still?
("Be still and know that I am God")
Sit with me and tell me something.
Hold out your open hand
And allow me to gaze upon its Universe.
Follow and clean my footsteps from hesitating darkness.
It is only when I look ahead
Will I succeed.
04/06

Same journal, almost a year later:

Don't waste your time asking me "What?"
My answer extends beyond measure and cannot be expressed with words.
It is when you can find confidence without asking "What"
That you will find me.
03/07


There is this flawless path of knowing,
And the uncertain group of hopes with fears.
Endless anguish colapses in the frame of memory.
We also pass through this envelope of time,
Only to surface and gasp for heaven's air.



SLAM!!!
Well, that's all for now kiddies!

Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage

Well, I finally did it. I've been wanting to for awhile now. I canceled my website. Yahoo was raising their monthly web hosting fee, so I clicked CANCEL plain and simple. The month's not even over and they completely erased it from the web like THAT! The bastards. Who gives a shit? Yeah, I saved most of my text, graphics and pix. Shake the dust off. Impressions by karen guarino is done and I'm glad.

So now it's time to keep walking. Sit with myself and think, think, think. There's a story, there's a tale and a miracle howl somewhere in this body of hope. So here I am at the burning barrel again, tossing in forgeries and devil maps of where I thought I was supposed to be. Jesus, everything makes so much more sense to me when I'm dreamy-still and entranced with an earful of songs. Where are the wooded areas? Where are those paths that led me to spiritual places only seen by me? The tiny voice speaking through pebble petting streams, cool, smooth tree bark, bending grasses and leaves that turn over and over on windy caresses. It's time for me to listen.

Autumn Leaves You Laughing

What is this? Well, it was a honey brown stained piece that I bought for $2 from a Grandma's Attic table tag sale. It has two "mystery" dowels across the face of it and a pocket. I plan on displaying it with a row of mini drip candles or tied dried flowers hanging down for charm. At least I crackled and tackled it instead of letting it sit for a year or more. More fun in store for today!!

Morning Buzz

Routine has its place. My early morning routine is a must. Don't futz with my slipper slide to the coffee zone. Don't tell me to snuggle for five more minutes because before coffee, I'm about as cuddly as a rabid badger. You're truly better off. So, with feet to the floor, I'm barely out of my dream state while I'm zombie rockin' over to the java machine. Please, just give me a solid hour to fill one up, sit, sip and stare into the web. I'll come around.

Cottage Additions

Wood shelf with dowl rod for dried flowers, tea towels, drip candles, greeting cards...

Happy Birthday To Meeee!

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the coffee's brewing...It's a perfect day!

If I could only go back to bed
and pull the covers
back over my head...

Happy Birthday To Me ~

Just Shut Up and Work

I work 6 hours a day in a retail pharmacy. It's a pleasant enough enviroment, there's enough to do and it pays my grocery bill. I don't particularly care about getting caught up in the mundane gossip and trivial trials of your life. I just want to do my job, smile pretty then cut loose. I've got a life to run.

Is This All Ya Got?

I went to my local arts 'n craft supply store. I'm not even gonna plug them, 'cause I think they suck. Anyway, this is what I got after spending 2 hours spiraling around for inspiration. I'm going to eventually open them up, and play with them. At the moment, they're sitting to my left in a stack wondering where they are and what they're going to be doing. Where'd I put my scissors? GASP!

Don't walk..Don't run but CLICK to Amazon.com and BUY THIS BOOK! My very good friend, Janet Baskerville and her fantastic wearable artistry is featured in it!

Gotta go!

Looking Back...

When I find myself looking back, amazingly I'm still the same person who is moving and dreaming forward. Haunting me is the curse of how I might be wroughting bad karma upon myself for "looking back". This is simply a fairy tale. "Never look back!" I hear them say. "Don't look back!" says the band playing in my head. The past is the past, but I'm lost in the present moment forgetting what the hell it is I'm supposed to be doing. Where is that feeling, that spark, that inspiring phrase or image that brought me here? By looking back, I can pause and learn while glancing over my shoulder; remembering what my intention was before it fell apart days, weeks, months later and changed into something else for someone else. The songs that hummed along the rhythm of who I was becoming were somehow silenced by unintentional, humiliating events. Past failures can kill a person. Past fears live in present moments forever. It takes confidence and awareness to stare down the demons and take back the heart and spirit of creative pursuits. I have forgotten the opportunity that when one door closes, another one opens. It takes perserverance and hope to go through those welcoming gates of possibility. It's happened and worked out that way for me in the past. (Cue song, "Find Your Way Back" by Jefferson Starship.)

March is half over. March has half begun! We are experiencing the presence of The Lion and anticipating The Lamb. Spring is right around the corner, Easter celebrations are here. Today is the promise of sun, but I'll be inside working at my PT job. Which I like, but I really need a hiatus. I need some solid ArT with HeArT time!!! SH#@! I've got a wicked knot in my back and neck that's been the worst kind of excuse. I finally saw the chiropractor, for the first time and it was pretty wild to hear all those popping sounds. (cringe) I'm on the road to wellness.

Today is Good Friday which is good because I get to leave work at noon! This will give me ample time to knock off my "to do" list for the family Easter gathering coming up. "I wanna eesta-egg, I wanna eesta-egg!" Looking back, when I was a wee girl, Easter smelled like new carpet and wood; sweet marshmallow and chocolate smeared cardboard cartons, mixed with perfume and pipe tobacco. My sister and I would be wearing our white squeaky buckled shoes and pilled stockings posing with our Easter baskets for that memorable polaroid shot. Easter foil from wrapped chocolates would be littered here and there, and of course, the conversation was inevitably about not being able to find that one missing hard-boiled egg. "Oh! Here it is!"

March is National Craft Month. So after the Resurrection, I plan on taking some creative action. Hopefully, I'll be feeling more limber and I can feed my ArT WiTh HeArT spirit. Matthew 7:7

The Beating Heart of March

Your humble friend begs to be all you would expect of me.

Today I would like to see
The path that is set for me.
Without a word
Or complaint;
To feign off ignorance
And apply restraint;
Still and quiet
While you show,
Love that is present
As I grow.

~karen guarino

While searching for, I looked within, and so my mornings should begin. To say it is one thing, to pray it is another.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gloomy, gray and stillness seek
The silent and the willing spirits
Of dreamers, believers and rooted divine
Who test the transparent doors of time. ~k


So how are we doing? Well, I'm frozen in routine. The grooves of the wagon wheels are deep and unwavering. I have a safe view for the five senses, but the sixth is screaming for release. Today I'll conform to nothing, expect nothing, want nothing, claim nothing. Surround myself with fillings to satisfy my soul.

Home Is Where The He-ART Is

"Oh I wish I had a river ~ I could skate away on." ~ joni mitchell

It's late, it's winter, I'm tired and I'm cold, but the moon's out and my snowman's singin', so we'll stay up a little while longer.

I'm so grateful to be here;

My children are safe and full;

I am blessed I'm not alone ~ my heART is here at home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's been a slow process trying to match my inspirations with my motivations! I did manage to finish a hardy stack of overdue note cards I custom made for the Madison Avenue Store here in town. She's been so patient with me.

Tomorrow is another day to work then chew up some chores and HOPEFULLY have some play-time.

Ringing In The New Year ~ Clearing the Cobwebs

As I start to write this, there is a little over 29 hours left of 2007. What am I waiting for? What's going to change? I'll tell you what's going to change. First of all, I'm getting rid of ALOT of stuff. It's either being Donated, Ditched or Dungeoned. Donating is easy. You just throw it into a sack and leave it at Goodwill. Ditching stuff is always fun. You just load up the garbage bag, a black one preferrably, until it weighs eighty pounds and you haul it to the curb like the Helga of the North you were meant to be. Dungeoning is simply packing it up in hearty rubbermaid and sending it over to the in-laws basement for the next millenium. It's junk, that's not junk. It's sentimental crap that's taking up valuable space and sanity. Someday you'll serve tea in your Kentucky Victorian with quaint company using your grandmother's heirloom tea set, but until then, ya gotta dungeon it!

What else is going to change? Well, my gut ain't getting any smaller, but that's not an issue right now. I'm talking about changing my attitude. Lately I've been having a really hard time dealing with the little things. We've got nuclear bombs aimed at us and I'm having a fit over excessive twisty-ties. Where do they keep coming from? Those and milk cap rings are continuously returning everytime I clear the counter. Should I be aware of a greater message being sent through these nagging oddities? I've bagged quite a collection of these everyday pull tabs I run into when I have to open something up. I figure it should spell out something to me someday in a working collage about a housewife and her daily commands. "Pull Here", "Pop Up", "Push In", "Pull Out". It's quite something when you think about it. So, from now on I'll try not to freak out over the lip curling annoyances like static electricity that makes my hair stick to my forehead when I'm trying on clothes in the dressing room, the ache in my elbow and hip that makes me feel like I'm 75 years old, my misplaced scissors, miscounted money, sudden canker sores, dead batteries, relentless co-worker cliches and the neighbor's yapping dog that shares his morning glory in our yard. Hey, all this is merely a Yoga position away toward better understanding of the whole picture. Now if I took Yoga, I'd be half-way there, however, I'll simply transform and add it to all the interesting material I've accumulated in my mind to write about whether it's ugly or not.

With that said, the next area to clean up is my current artwork which is clashing with my soul. Once I'm finished classifying my household stuff into destination piles, I'll do the same with my unfinished art works. Let's see, it'll be Finish It, File It, or Fire It! If I don't finish it by the end of Winter, (I'm making this up as I go along) I FIRE IT UP! SWOOSH! Right into the burning barrel come March 20th. What a plan, but I better be careful. I've lightened the load many times and as always, along comes a day when I ask myself, "Why the hell did I get rid of that?!"

HAPPY 2008!

You'll Poke Yer Eye Out Ya Nit Wit!

So, am I the only woman who uses her toothbrush to smooth down, fluff up and shape her eyebrows in the morning? What a great beauty secret I thought I had. Who knew that one day, one spastic move and SMOOGE! Right in the eye! The pain was incredible. Later I would find out after an afternoon visit with the eye doctor that it was just enough force to put a gash into my cornea. If C.S.I. were to come into my bathroom, they would have found the microscopic splatter of my eyeball on my soggy bristles. If I could've watched that idiotic move in slow motion and saw the intense impact I had on my tender little peeper, I would live with goosebumps forever. Why is it I'm always in such a rush in the morning getting ready for work? That particular morning I was meeting my good friend, Reenie, for coffee. So I had to be out of the house earlier than usual. For some reason I was feeling ugly, hense the call for my beauty secret routine and Whammo! Bad timing and terrible aim. Maybe I'm going to have to cut my caffeine intake to one cup in the morning.

Now what would my mother have taught me? What would she have said? She probably would have reached into her make-up bag and said, "Here's an eyebrow comb, honey. Be very careful and use slow sweeping motions away from your eye. If you're in a hurry, dear, you'll poke yer eye out!"

ps ~ I don't know who the baby pictured above is, but I hope his mom doesn't mind my using his photo for this. He's absolutely adorable!!

Christmas Greeting and Pause

"Does anyone know what Christmas is all about?"

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"

Wishing my family both far and near, my best friends who I hold so dear and to so many more I've yet to meet a very beautiful Christmas and a New Year filled with hope, love and peace.

karen

Help! I'm Trapped in a Homebody!

What's the big deal? So I didn't follow through on another desired impulse. I guess I shouldn't feel so twisted up about it. I'm tired and I'm mentally wearing myself out. Like a Suzanne Vega lyric, "...I'm fighting things I cannot see." I just couldn't warrior myself enough to jump into a frozen car at dusk, spend MAYBE an hour at the gallery, then regretfully speed home so that I could pretend I never left and throw together a half-assed meal. I missed my artist friend, Janet Baskerville who was there and that would've been fun and worth it. Ohhh, I need to coop up and forget it.

I got a call from one of my customers from the craft show. She'd like another Christmas illustration personalized for family friends. It's the Santa list design. That's cool I guess. Now I wish I had charged more, but, really, it'll be cake to do. I should be working on some kid cards for a shop I sell to. My art area has been excavated to make room for the Christmas tree! So most of my stuff has been relocated to the basement. It's accessible, but it's in a bit of disarray. I'm going to do myself a favor and invite the Sandman in early. This cranky girl needs to get buried. Sweet Dreams!