Dega Inspired Ballerina using pastels and watercolor

The image of the ballerina is one of the most provacative forms and conjures up many emotions, from childhood fantasy, to fairy like dolls, flying dancers doing the impossible with their bodies and always the hypnotising story of the dance.

Long, languid, liquid, lines....
Twirling, swirling, flowing, emoting
beauty and strength

grace and steel

Bon Soir, Paris! Je t'aime....Midnight in Paris!

I was so happy to have a night out to escape in the darkness of the movie theatre.  My kids and their friends were upstairs watching their movie, txting me they all found seats and were settled for an exciting show for the night.  Ahhhh. Bliss.  I was here and they were there.  Even better my husband who was in Brooklyn all day for work was going to try to make the show.  I was six rows from the front and nudged my way past about seven seated people to find myself against the brick wall.  I was surprised to see so many people already seated for this movie.  I wasn't too excited by it as if it was a period piece that I like such as Pride and Prejudice.  The previews came and went and the movie began.  The seven people were suddenly disrupted again rising one at a time as my husband climbed over knees and joined me! I was so happy to see him missing all day, and his hands ran along my bared legs felt so warm.  He made it!

The movie began with images of Paris, every famous gorgeous historic location one after the other.  Oh my!  No wonder why so many people fall in love or propose or create masterpieces in Paris.  The Louvre, Arc de Triumph, the Seine, the Eiffel Tower, rows and rows of colorful shops, cafes and markets, cobbled streets, ...on and on...I was mesmerized and completely hooked.  I was sitting there smiling feeling such joy at what I was seeing in this movie. 

Much to my surprise, it was whimisical in time traveling to the 20's and the then the 1800's.  The audience got a glimpse of what it might have been like to meet Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, Gaugin, and Salvadore Dali! It was wonderful!  It made me want to paint, to write, to create and to dance and spin like in this picture...in the rain!  I felt bliss in this movie.  The main underlying plot was predictable but it was the fun and interesting journey along the way that swept you away in free abandoment even if it was improbable, crazy or ridiculous.  Why not?  This is Paris and Midnight in Paris was magical!  I'm in love and want to dance on the streets of Paris.

Jesus Has Risen, but what of Mary Magdalene?

“Mary!”

Mary then knew exactly who stood before him glowing in bright angelic light. The one word of intimacy of one’s name left no doubt this was Mary Magadelene’s Jesus.

“Do not cling to me.”

It is in these words, that puts their physical relationship to rest, a death like his own, but a resurrection of a new relationship put in an almost incomprehensible realm. Oh, how this must be what the “Agony and the Ecstasy” must feel like. To want, to ache and to long for the love of her life, but to never truly “have” him is the essence of Mary Magadelene's cross that she bears. As in Jesus Christ Superstar’s lyrics, “I don’t know how to love him…” is the complexity of Mary’s love and devotion to Jesus, the Man and Jesus, The Christ. So mysterious is she, yet we do know she is strong, brave and stalwart in her devotion and commitment to their relationship, whatever exactly it was. She stayed until his last breath; she was the first to go to his tomb; she was the first to see the resurrected Jesus appear before her. She believed. She followed undauntingly.

I would be hurt by Jesus’ words, “Do not cling to me.” It sounds like a rejection and a lack of reciprocation of feelings, but it had to be. Throughout his relationship as a man on earth with Mary Magdalene, it had to be an inner struggle with him the entire time knowing, knowing the moment would come when they could not be in body together, yet despite that knowledge, he kept her close. He couldn’t deny himself her company and would not deny himself her company while he remained a man. She sat next to him at The Last Supper. I’d say that is a high place of honor, indeed. Being female with our innate nurturing qualities, she may have been a steady source of comfort to him with both knowing unfailing what would come.

I want to know, and I feel terribly guilty and as if I'm a bad Catholic, but I can't help but wonder, Did Jesus and Mary have sex? Was it a sexual relationship? Did he give in to his manly desires? Was Mary Magadalene his true love and soulmate, or was he in control of his earthly desires knowing he was God’s son? I don’t know. No one apparently does. Mary’s tale was written by the memory by men a good 60-65 years after Jesus’ death…no one will know for sure except for Mary and Jesus. I think the single word uttered when Jesus appeared to Mary when she was confused and didn’t recognize him tells us a great deal.

“Mary!” (Mary! Look. it’s me…me, your Jesus…but I have changed to the Holy Spirit and you can have me no more.)

Information learned on the Smithsonian website www.smithsonianmag.com/history.../magdalene.html -
Fascinating stuff!

Desperately Seeking Solace in Spirits

Spirits, where are you? (Ghost Adventurers)

Is it any wonder that my nerves are jangled? Earthquakes, Tsnami’s, Massive Death and Destruction, War in Libya, Air Raids, Bombing…the death of Liz Taylor, the heart attack of a friend, and a student flying home to be with his dying mother.


Geez, it’s surprising I haven’t turned to alcohol or something worse, but this is too much! I watch Ghost Adventurers, Celebrity Ghost Stories, Psychic Kids and Ghost Whisperer like a dry sponge that wants to soak in story after story of the after life. I need to hear, to see, to believe that there is something more than this. There has to be. I’m engrossed in Zac provoking the haunted spirits that linger in Remington’s Gun Factory, wanting to hear the disembodied voices. “Did you hear that?” Foot steps. A laugh. A faint cry. I heard it. I crave the bonified proof that spirits exist, that we don’t vanish into nothingness.

Then there is the little boy’s book, titled, “Heaven is Real.” He has a burst appendix when he is four years old and is cradled in Jesus’ lap and sees his grandfather with large Angel Wings. He says, and I’ve heard this from my reading of psychic medium books, that no one is old. They are 20 or 30 years of age at most. He said heaven is colorful and filled with a lot of people. Sadly, he was asked if he can still see it clearly as many years have gone by and he does acknowledge that his memory of it is fading. If only we can see what he saw, but we will. One day we will. But why is that book a best seller right now?
See paragraph one. The world has gone crazy; the earth must be tilted as it is belching and churning and tossing us humans about like a baby tossing a handful of rocks and letting them fly. Our human brains must be sloshing about as Revolutions are erupting across the most volatile areas of the world, the Middle East, and we Americans must always stick our nose in it to stir high emotions and more hatred. Bombs, protests, insurgents,…Even Israel and Palestine are up to their old anxiety ridden fatal tricks with bombing of innocents on a bus. Is the moon’s gravitational pull on the liquid in our brains extra strong causing people to act in crazy ways?

So, yeah. I want to read that little kid’s book….from the mouth of babes lay the God’s honest truth. I think we are all thirsting to know that we’ll be all right on the other side and need a little more reassurance than going to church on Sunday’s and listening to how Jesus was crucified for us so that we can enjoy eternity. That is an old story, have heard it many times before, so much so that it just doesn’t seem like something I can actually relate to…God forgive me, but I guess I’m as bad as the doubting Thomas…Maybe Jesus needs to come again and give us humans a good talking to, and he needs to fix the earth because it is moving and shaking a bit more than we can handle.

Didn’t mean to get religious, just addressing our vulnerable time in history. This really isn’t unique. World War II must have seemed like the world was going crazy. There have been natural disasters before, so it’s not anything new, but it is new to me. Every era has their war, every era has their hardship, and every era gets through it. We will and have to, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my Ghost Adventure shows; actually, it might be on right now. So, I’m going to sign off and see if I can catch Zac taunt a spirit or two!! Go Zac! You are the man!

http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Ghost_Adventures/Video

Phineas Bloom and The Letter Comes To Life

My husband looked at this painting and immediately asked, "What is in the letter? She doesn't look happy."  He said, "It must be from a guy and it's not good news."  I told him the beauty of this painting is it means whatever the viewer wants it to mean.  Is it good news? Is it bad news? Is it worrisome news?  Is it news that requires a decision?  I love art that makes you wonder and play with your imagination, and of course, I love this period.  She is kind of like a "Lizzie Bennett, or a Jane Austen....or even a Cassandra Austen."  But in my world, she is Phinny, Phineas Bloom and her letter is The Story, one I shall write and see where it takes me.  Again, it's a bit out of perspective, to which I fully acknowledge, and am in agreement that I am in desperate need of lessons.  But you know what?  I love this painting because it is beautiful to me.  Beautiful in color, lighting, subject matter....and I love her night gown, or rather, night rail, why they called it that, I'll have to check.  Anyway, here it is in full "Bloom."  Enjoy! 

Whatever shall I paint next??? Hmmmmmm... Meanwhile reading a wonderful novel by Eloisa James, "When Beauty Tamed The Beast." Incredibly written, and the verbage of the main character is so distinctly biting; I am always amazed that so many personalities can be stored in one head, the mind of an author! Elizabeth Boyle's "Mad About The Duke" was a quick read, too...loved it!

Writing, Painting, Writing, Painting...creative juices are flowing!

My Phineas Bloom's Letter painting is all out of proportion and looks completely cartoony and amateurish...I haven't attacked it in a while.  I am on the verge of trashing it, and calling that one a disaster!  BUT...I feel like it must be worth saving, so I am going to brush and wash and stroke it until it comes to life.  It seems I'm a persistent bugger, and do have a "don't give up" attitutude after all. I almost did that with my other two paintings, Lady Cecilia and Lord Rosemont.  I was scared to death to paint the sketched faces....did everything but.  I had a faceless painting filled with color everywhere but the circular area of the canvas which was to be the face.  It was tortuous.
Well, time to head downstairs and pull out my painting of Phinny in her diaphanous nightrail in the glow of candlelight in her bedroom brooding over a letter....story to come eventually.
I'm also working pretty intensely on one of my Regency Romance novels, which after tweaking and tweaking, I read it from start to finish, where I've left off, that is, no where near finished...just beginning really, and I liked it!  I wanted to see what would happen at the dinner party where the two opposing forces would meet again, male vs. female.  I'll get to that later, too.  It has mystery, intrigue, loyal friendships, emotional inner demons to fight and a true tangible enemy on the periphery that brings all together and leads to an incredible discovery.

Gotta go!
Sorry to leave you hanging...but ...stay tuned...sdh

"With The Birds I Shared A Lonely View..."

"With the birds I share is a lonely view...." was a quote at a wake of someone I had met briefly, but the impact was great.  There must have been some purpose for our paths to cross; I do believe that.  This talented young man was an artist that mixed up mediums and created glowing works of art that begged to leap off the page and come to light.  They were glimpses of life in unique vibrant texturized color in acrylic, water color, pastel and china ink mixed and swished together to make magic on canvas.

My friend urged me to our art gallery to meet him, that I would probably like his work. I was so glad I did.  Canvas after canvas I was awed by the beauty and reality of his talent.  His work was amazing.  I love color as you can probably tell with my art work and this blog.  I love to play with color, but it is tricky to do and to do it well enough to make it work and compliment the picture.  I remember telling him, "Look how you used green on this man's face and it works!" 

The hawk up above was made for my father as a symbol of strength, pride, and as a stoic survivor.  In the theory  of survival of the fittest, the hawk would surely be considered fittest and would reign on top.  With this bit of painting, I played ever so meekly with watercolor and acrylic combined.  I wasn't that brave but I did it.  The background is a wash of watercolor, along with a smattering of the stump.  Next time I might play more with pastel, watercolor and acrylic.   This talented young man gave me the impetus to create, to experiment, to take my work a step further.  I created the hawk for my father, but I think I must have also created it for this artist, too.  I didn't know the lyrics from the Red Hot Chili Peppers would be at his wake (Funny, I always loved this song but never really listened to the words, nor the name of the song "Scar Tissue" - Interesting, because emotional pain may lessen, but it always leaves a scar.  This song is about angst, loneliness, isolation...)...how fitting that I chose a bird on a lonely perch...sometimes the strongest is the loneliest....sdh...