On a particular Sunday morning, I was looking at some Matisse images.
Boris was sleeping on the couch.
My husband was reading an actual print newspaper beside the window.
We were listening to old French songs.
Outside it was pouring rain. There were the remnants of sliced grapefruit we'd had for breakfast and a lingering scent of crêpes.
We were still in PJs, and we had no plans for the day except to do a bit of housecleaning. But this picture of the three of us went into the journal.
There are some moments that we can effortlessly remember. We don't have to photograph, draw or paint them all the time.
March was long and busy.
I woke up today with a torrent of words.
I'm building my artist website, and had been mulling over how to describe my work.
Looking at the drawings on the wall, I expect them to speak to me, to tell me: look we are about ________
But they remain silent like saying, hey, what do you want from us? We're just here, getting some sunlight.
Recently, I had a brief feedback session with a Concordia University professor. We were encouraged to choose only five pieces to show and not explain anything, maybe an overall theme but allow the person offering feedback to tell you what they saw.
It was mind-blowing. This professor saw things and mentioned dozens of elements that I couldn't pinpoint myself. In the end, she said: do you have any questions?
And I just whispered: I guess one: are my drawings interesting?
And she remained quiet for a second, and she said: absolutely yes. Oh yes. She said: I urge you to explore scaling up. Draw bigger. I see these bigger.
It was a conversation that I needed so badly. I'm grateful beyond words because, without feedback, we are advancing a bit blindly. Judging our work from one point of view and tinged mainly by comparison or our beliefs on what our work should look like or do.
When it was over, I came downstairs, and since my husband was out, I jumped up and down in front of Boris: I'm an artist! At last! I am!
I know this sounds silly. The second you start making art consistently, you should call yourself an artist, but for me, I was still doubtful.
Some habits are impossible to shed.
As the first quarter of 2021 comes to an end, where are you in your art?
Tell me! (reply to this email)
I recently made some adjustments to my Patreon tiers. I wanted to give more access to videos, so if you wanted to join, you could do so now at the $5 tier, which will give you access to most of them.
In April, I will be sharing videos about my mono-printing, another sketchbook tour and a bit more about drawing portraits.
And in the vault, the last series of videos demonstrated the four ways I usually draw.
I hope to see you there!
- A new blog post about the lessons learned in five years of making art and where Flowarte is headed.
- A fascinating look at the work of Burne-Jones and the Briar Rose series.
- A short but beautiful Skillshare class I unearthed by using ALL the filters.
- How to take a virtual tour of The Louvre
- Are you curious about how to use Oil Pastels, Domestika recently added a class. This way you can dive right in instead of making a mess like I did.
- If you are getting ready to paint or draw outside, these art boxes are too inviting!
- The subject of this email is from the poem ...Aubade by Philip Larkin. It has been my companion for the last few weeks.
A special Domestika discount: 10% for the next 30 days.
As usual, you can hit reply to this email if there is anything I can help your with or you just want to chat.
Have a wonderful month of April.