Archive for December, 2013

Here are a couple of larger Polaroids I did a few months ago, an all nighter as I recall just drinking and painting.

Henry Miller said “There are only 3 things that can be done with a woman; you can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.”

What about us non lesbian women artists? I realized reading this quote I’ve been doing just that using my romantic adventures as direct inspiration for my paintings. You can love a man, suffer for him, or turn him into an art piece. Ironically I think I need to go through the 2 prior stages before I can finally paint someone. At least some good came out of all these “meaningful casual” relationships. Although I’m probably just being more honest with myself than the men in my life. I rather be accused of “giving too much” or “loving too much” than anything else.

This made me ponder on the gender issue. When a man has a Muse and creates a piece of art it’s normal, but when a woman does have a male Muse she quickly gets labeled as “crazy” or “obsessive”.  It’s unfair but it’s in the collective subconscious somehow. I don’t think Dali’s wife ever complained to be in every single one of his late paintings. Men are rarely comfortable with being a Muse. Maybe it’s simply pride? I’d think a passionate man wouldn’t mind and would respond with more creativity and love toward his artist companion.  I’m open to a debate if anyone has insights on the male side. I think it all depends on how you look at it.

I personally love taking photographs and videos in the attempts to grasp certain intimate moments so I can remember them later in my life. In the illusion I might preserve these moments forever. Although a lot of pictures I took only remind me of how much I’ve lost. I live with nostalgia but I don’t regret any of it. Nor do I regret to have captured any of these moments on film. After a while, they become something new you look at with a romantic eye. I love to work from photography but my best artwork are based purely on memory. As I live, I tell myself; “This, right now. His face, his expression, is beautiful. I want to capture that moment as I would with a camera, I want to capture this sensation”. This is how I managed to sketch and draw intimate moments that only my eyes saw, that only my heart felt. Sometimes it’s like an out of body experience, as I try to remember it. I can see us from a distance and create a composition from it.

Black Bath Heart of DarknessI’ll close with a quote from Henry Miller;

Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such”

~ till next time…


Dima is back, she’s never far away screaming in my ears to shut the hell up and draw.

I recently started doing in addition to the Polaroid sized watercolors, large size Polaroids! Same technique but larger scale. Here is the large Polaroid #003 which is about 11 by 17″. Larger format allows me to add more details to the composition, and I was pretty happy how that one came out. Still undecided on the title. Between “Morning Blues” and “Birthday Letter”.

I keep an original blue print of all my drawings. This way if I mess up the watercolor I can always go back to the original pencil drawing, retrace it, and paint it again. It’s interesting how colored version always look different from the pencil draft. Not only because it has colors, rendering process tend to lose details or fine lines from pencil.. I guess my painting needs improvement.

Morning Blues Pencil Stage Morning Blues


I’m going to distort a quote from Henry Miller here but bare with me; to really love someone is to be ready to lose yourself in another person, that thought is frightening to the common man/woman, but only until we completely lose ourselves, can we find out who we really are.

I found myself long ago and I had time to drown in my own tears many, many times. So I’m getting to a point where I just do not give a fuck anymore (excuse my French).  And all I know is I’ll never regret to not have lived enough, loved enough, or invest enough heart in my life and in my lovers. That’s more than most people can say.

As Ted Hughes said in a letter he once wrote; The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.

I’ll end with another quote of my favorite  poem by Ted Hughes, extract from Birthday Letter;

“The dreamer in her
Had fallen in love with me and she did not know it.
That moment the dreamer in me
Fell in love with her and I knew it”

~ till next time