Monday, 22 September 2014

Jumping Without a Net....

paint, panic, run, paint, dance, paint, panic, run, breathe, go deep inside, paint, dance.....under water (or so it feels!).  This is my first three weeks back in the USA.  I'm working again.  Painting the Brazos River, dancing to non-stop two stepping music, completely happy, then when I'm done for the day, I panic.... or sometimes, in the morning when I'm running my 6 mile route (3x/week), I panic.  This is a HUGE cliff I've leapt off.  But, I keep putting one foot in front of the other, breathe deep (no matter what speed I'm going), go deep - check in, dance, paint, breathe, dance, paint, run, breathe.  This change from one continent to another (my second change in 6 months...) is proving to be the biggest challenge of my life, so far.  All I can do is keep moving forward, into the fog, absolutely trusting that the tracks are perfectly laid for my feet, even though I can't see where they are.  The subject for the commission remains elusive, but not impossible.  I need to do these two landscapes to flex my painting muscles, make sure my feet are indeed traveling the perfectly laid tracks. 
Paris, TX studio.... with beginning of  Hot Day on the Brazos

Challenges - the need for my own wheels is becoming paramount; the lack of independence is beginning to tell on my psyche, my ability to do my job.  The phone can wait til I'm in NM, as can a USA driving license, and all the other things necessary to today's life, never mind my work.  The illness of my Dad adds to the challenges, but I'm mostly so glad and honoured that I'm here right now and able to see him even for a few days at a time.  So much to be grateful for, and the knowledge that I know I'm doing the right thing for me, for my work...

I'm trying to decide if its done....what do you think??  I think it is!

Hot Day on the Brazos, 12 x 16 in., oil on board, £1,250 ($2,000 approx)

Monday, 8 September 2014


Looking West on the Brazos River, West of Ft. Worth, TX
I spent this past Friday looking at this view.  After a somewhat spacy, and wonderfully strange re-entry to the USA here in the town of Paris, TX, I am starting to feel my feet - somewhat!!!  Its harder than you think to move back to the USA - anywhere - after living 12 years abroad!  I've spent time with my Dad in his skilled nursing facility room in Dallas; listening to folk songs and western ballads and watching old movies (he really likes Singing in the Rain). I've spent time calming my poor Ardnamurchan kitty and am happy with her progress (what a brave kitty!), and had a few little tours around Paris, and started my running program.  All things designed to help me find my feet so that I can begin to ruminate and work on my commission. 
The thing I did that was best though, was to go out to the ranch on the edge of the Brazos River (Texas) west of Ft. Worth (its a LONG river, so you see why  I tell you SORT OF where it is), where my commission will hang...  feeling the inspiration literally flow through my veins. I could literally smell the juniper and mesquite, feel the dry heat, and felt like I could see forever....  So, watch this space!  I don't think it will be long before I begin to put paint to canvas again....  If I don't give myself heatstroke running too late first!!  First learned rule, don't run after 730 am until the weather cools... 

Friday, 25 July 2014


Village Street, Auribeau sur Siagne, 22 x 18 in., oil on canvas, £2,000.00

I’m now finished with the materials I brought with me to work with, and have decided that it’s time to stop painting for awhile – until I get into the USA.  Since my last entry, things have been moving forward at tremendous speed (for shifting one’s life from 2 countries to one “across the pond” at any rate!).  I been faced with difficult decisions.... all a result of the decision to move home to paint, and the inevitable questions of what comes with you and what stays behind.  No-one should have to make these hard choices, but it seems, we can’t get away from them! 

I’m about to, once again, temporarily (I hope) leave my beloved mare, Dancer, behind while I return to make sure that life in the USA still suits us, after living abroad for so many years.  THAT was a difficult and necessary decision, made apparent by sudden shifts in the USA around importing livestock into the US from Europe.  I’m starting to spread the word that I’m selling my car – my mid-life crisis purchase that I’ve enjoyed immensely in the last 2.5 years I’ve had her; and then there will be the inevitable questions once I’m back in Glenfinnan for a short stay, about what is left, what is sold or given away, and what is shipped home.  My little Ardnamurchan cat, Ceilidh, is returning home with me this time....she has her passport, and is young enough to deal with the challenges ahead.  Right now, in Brittany, I’m focusing on Dancer.  Spending as much precious time with her as possible, making sure she’s completely integrated and accepted in her new herd, and as trouble free as possible for my very generous friend who has agreed to look after her with her own horses.  
Sadly, I won't be able to make the longed for drive across France to visit the caves at Lascaux, or on to the Cote d'Azur.  But, I'll make sure it's part of my agenda when I return to check on Dancer in 6 months. I needed to finish my work, needed to help Dancer, and take care of business...
I finished the last painting mid-week last week, a lovely view down one of the streets in Auribeau sur Siagne, in the Cote d’Azur.  It’s the last main canvas here in the studio, and all that is in front of me is Waltz Across Texas and possibly a painting I’ve put off for 2.5 years – one I saw in a moment of clarity right after my Mother passed away in 2011.  I’m working now on those very difficult sketches of the obvious crowd of beloveds, a host of kachinas (absolutely!) and well-wishers that surrounded her and helped her move on in those last, very powerful yet difficult days.  Art is therapy, and we artists are closer to it than most, as we struggle every day to allow inner images, feelings, passion, and struggles, to flow through our hands into the world....whether it’s by written word or through paint, music, dance, photography, sculpture, or any other medium.  This image may take a very long time to finally produce.  For me, it’s like very carefully lancing a sore; making sure its healing well and that there is only love behind what is left. 

Wednesday, 2 July 2014


Well, since my last entry here, plaintively saying, “I need to go home!”,  things have been moving in that direction steadily.  Don’t get me wrong, I need to raise a lot of cash to move home with a clean slate financially, much less just move me, travelling Dancer, and timid Ceilidh (a soon to be travelling cat from Ardnamurchan) home.  Artists are continually moving from feast to famine; and the feast times are usually paying off the famine.  But that’s NOT what I’m thinking about right now.  What I’m thinking about is the rush that as soon as I put it out there that I needed a certain amount to make it home, a large chunk of that was offered to me in the form of either a commission based on, or a major painting from my series, Waltz Across Texas.  I always DID want/hope that Waltz Across Texas would generate some commissions, and it seems that it might just be doing that!  And THAT is what I want to talk about.... COMMISSIONS. 
Floore Country Store, Study  9x 12 in., oil on board, £700.00
I LOVE doing them!  I love connecting with a client who has a vision, based on work of mine they’ve already seen, and wants me to put that vision into reality.  I love the research for a commission; getting to know a place/person, being able to take zillions of photos without worrying, sketching and sketching until I know I’ve come up with what I think the client is looking for, and in the case of Waltz Across Texas, painting the studies necessary to make sure that the client and I are on the same page before I ever put paint to canvas in a larger piece.  I do this for all commissions.  It makes it worthwhile for them because they can be pretty sure they’ll love the finished piece; and for me, because I know the finished piece will be what is expected – even though it’s my own vision, really.  And, unlike my usual work which is always on spec, it’s paid for....  There is a relaxation in my life when I’m working and know I’ve got money in the bank for food, supplies, etc. 

So, from the bottom of my heart, I’m saying a huge thank you to the client who has come forward to help me make this move, to give me a focus to work on immediately once I return, and for believing in and trusting me and my work! 

Sunday, 15 June 2014



I’ve been out in the bigger world, outside the home cushion of the USA, for 11 years now; and I have come to realize in the last few weeks, that actually, it’s time to go home.  Not because the world has become too big or too difficult – believe me, it might just possibly be MORE difficult to be “home” – but because much as I love my life in Europe, I miss New Mexico, I miss my family, my loved ones, I miss relating to friends on a daily basis who have the same life experience as I. I want to spend time with my Dad while he can still remember me (he has Alzheimer’s).  It was really brought home to me this past week as I read Living History by Hillary Rodham Clinton.  I had tears in my eyes many times as through the pages of that incredible book, I relived times that had been my own experience, HOME!  I  am painting intensely in my 16th century Braeton house for the summer, listening to music that reminds me of home, and planning just how I’m going to achieve this huge shift.  Once again, it’s time to leap off a cliff – one equally as big as the one I leapt off of when I moved to Scotland!  I have to raise a large sum of cash to achieve this as soon as I possibly can.  I have to move my horse, my cat, some paintings (some will stay in Scotland or France because let’s face it, I have a global business!!), a few boxes of books and the family mementos and photos that made life away from them easier to bear (my Navajo rugs, Apache baskets, pueblo pottery, my Mother’s apron, and my childhood panda bear). 

In the meantime, I intend to keep painting furiously; to make the best of this time I have in France; to explore a bit more as I get ahead of the financial game just a little.  Leaping off cliffs into the unknown to make my art sing is part and parcel of living as a full-time artist for me.  This leap back home – as soon as my finances will allow – is another big step forward and will, I hope, make it easier for me once again to travel the world to paint, to find new and better markets for my work, and to maintain those markets I have worked so hard to create in Scotland, England and the rest of Europe.  Made possible, I know, by making a stable place for me to be.  And with all this change, there will still be the terrible wrench of leaving my friends and family in Scotland (I know, I know, I’ve already left, but not really.... not until the last box goes, and the cat is back with me and Dancer in our new home).

When I first began this blog about the adventures of being a full-time artist in this difficult world of 9-5 jobs and consumerism, hard times for living without a tough outer skin, I’d not realized how much of the inner journey I’d feel the need to write about!  But the inner journey of an artist is actually MORE important (to me anyway) than the outer!  In the meantime, enjoy a few more images from my incredibly productive summer!!
Old Nice, Like a ripe melon... 14 x 11 in., oil on board, £1,000.00

Thunderstorm approaching olive groves, Le Castellet, 16 x 24 in., oil on canvas, £2,000.00


Thursday, 5 June 2014

INSPIRATION and other things...

St. Agnes, Provence-Alps-Cote d'Azur, 12 x 16 in., oil on board, £1,250.00

 It’s already June!  Where has the time gone!?!  I’ve been struggling lately with my choices, I’ve also been driven to keep painting; it’s an interesting conundrum!  I’m living in a gentle, rolling paradise, in a 16th Century Bretton house – every artist’s dream.  But, the landscape doesn’t inspire me – it doesn’t get in my way either.  And, I knew when I moved here for 5 months that I WASN’T inspired.  I knew it wouldn’t get in my way either.  And, it hasn’t!  But what has stymied me more than anything is the IDEA that I’m not inspired by my very environment.  I paint from my photos and sketches of other places – mostly from my journeys to the South of France, or back to Scotland. 

I’ve just finished a lovely little piece from Le Pouldu, a coastal town south of here, just to prove this wrong.  I CAN be inspired, but I’ve got to travel to get to it, rather than stepping out my door.  As I look at my photos from my journeys , I realize that I literally was able to step out my door and feel inspired – I often am inspired by the view from Le Rouret,  across the city covered plains to the ocean in the distance,  or out the door in Glenfinnan  across the fields and eternal mists and rain to the hills, and feel inspired.  Yet here, in this gentle place, I am not.  I am grateful because my beloved old mare, Dancer, has settled in nicely, so the distraction and worry of my “little sister’s” difficult transition from Glenfinnan to France has gone.  However, I’m now able to focus on what is working for me and what is not. 

Le Pouldu, Brittany, 11 x 14 in., oil on board, £1,000.00

It’s never easy for an artist, to live with uncertainty; yet, it’s part and parcel of our very lives.  I had imagined being able to travel across and explore France during my time here; and I’m not able to.  I have to scramble so very hard just to keep food on my table, and petrol in my car that any thoughts of exploring further – to the Perigord (one of my dreams to see the caves at Lascaux – rather the duplicates since people are no longer able to go inside in order to protect them), a mere 4 hour drive from here; to explore other parts of the Southern French coasts, and on down to the Cote d’Azur to the rugged hills above Nice and Menton, to again live in and capture the famous Provencal light.  I am painting that light, but from my photos, from my sketches, from my memory, and at the moment under the influence of an energy saving, daylight (really???) bulb, because the best light comes into the studio in the evening, and my best work happens in the morning....  Always, always, there is the need to adjust, to work with what is in front of me!! 

Auribeau sur Siagne, 11 x 14 in., oil on board, £1,000.00

I’ve more exploring to do though.  I hear there are beautiful rose colored rocks just an hour north of here (though not the deep red of the Corniche), and I’m saving my pennies (now THAT’S a euphemism!!!  Saving – I have to just make the decision to fill the tank and not pay something else, or pay a card, and use that just paid balance to fill the tank, etc., etc.  This is the OTHER side of a very blessed and romantic life as a painter!!), and will make the journey.  Red rocks – visions of my desert home return to me, making me more homesick than ever, but inspiring nonetheless, as they meet the blue ocean. 

Friday, 16 May 2014

Time for Inner Quiet

 St. Agnes, Alps Maritime Cote d'Azur  12 x 16 in. oil on board, £1,250
 Sketch, St Cezaire sur Siagne,  pencil on paper, approx. 11 x 16 in., £200.00
sketch, Bergemon, pencil on paper, approx. 8 x 6 in., £100.00
I am writing this on the back side of a period of quiet, after an intense period of work.  I don’t know about other artists, but THIS one needs time of quiet between projects, after time of intense creativity, or worry, or just about anything requiring a modicum of focus.  I don’t acknowledge weekends; I tend to work when I can, regardless the day, because I feel inside my deepest, darkest place that if I stop, I’ll never be able to start again.  (This much, I know other artists’ suffer from!)  Utter nonsense, I know, but there it is! 

Just as I need to work whenever the muse strikes, no matter what’s going on outside the studio, I also need to pay attention and NOT work when my inner artist says, “enough!”  I call it my “inward” time.  I read a book, for hours, or watch movie after movie, or even sometimes just sit in the sun, absorbing the warmth.  (To be honest, those days have been few and far between these past 10 years in to absorb ANY sun is to be treasured!)  The point is to completely detach – from everything.  The only souls who claim my attention then are my cat, Ceilidh, and my horse, Dancer.  I’d include my partner in that, if I weren’t single!  Friends, of course, but they distract me from the detachment and take me into the world many times – which is what my detach time is asking to hide from. Sometimes I don’t even want to have a coffee with someone other than my book or movie! Make any sense??  And those of you who love me, I KNOW will understand this and not take offense.  I AM a gregarious introvert (a descriptive phrase so aptly coined by a very dear friend who is very much like me), with a distinct need to take care of that introvert sometimes.....

What does this mean in the studio? means that whatever is on the easel has to sit and wait for me to pick up the brushes again.  It means that sometimes my brushes sit in turpentine for a few days.  It means that I’m not good at answering emails, don’t want to look at my bank statements, or have ANYTHING to do with the world for at least a day or two.  If I’m lucky, that’s as long as it lasts, and I get tired of inactivity and sloth and pick up the brushes, the balls, look at my email, and right now, go out and weed a section of my garden.

I must be coming out of my sloth now because I’m writing!  So, more paintings on the way (two on easels for 2 days now), sketches to do and show, people to contact, etc., etc.  Still focus is on the South of France, but there is focus!  The painting above was finished just before my little break; and the sketches are what is currently on the easel.  More sketches to publish, but I want to start the work!!