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Mindfulness when Life Sucks

Mindfulness.

I’m averse to it when life sucks. I can’t help but ask myself, “why should I pay more attention to THIS?” So here’s my thinking. Turn it upside down. Look at it (whatever “it” is) in another way; from a different angle. I recently rediscovered the upside down drawing technique when working across the table from some of my clients. When drawing from another image, I’ve found it easier to create a better rendition of the target image if I do it upside down. No, I don’t stand on my head. I spin the original picture upside down.

When I look at a portrait right side up, my mind categorizes “hand, eyes, nose, shadow, chin, hair,” and as I proceed to draw these parts the schemas of these ideas take over. What I already "know" interferes with what I am trying to learn. I find the images I draw turn out to be REPRESENTATIONS of these pre-learned concepts rather than true renderings of what my eyes reveal before me.

I learned this upside down technique years ago from the books Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain and Drawing on the Artist Within by Dr. Betty Edwards.

I don’t know for sure how to translate this drawing method of turning the book upside down to the broader concept of “looking at life from a different angle.” But I’m working on it.

In the meantime I suspect there is some psychic crossover that aids me, a spiritual gain perhaps, from the tangible, physical act of art making from objects turned on their heads.

Why I Don't Give to Salvation Army

Sometimes I just say no to something without explanation. That’s an assertive stance. You don’t have to explain or defend your choices. You can decline and be polite at the same time. Today I am explaining a decision to say no. I don’t donate to Salvation Army. I see those bell ringers and I pass right by. I don’t let anybody with me drop a coin in their drums, either. I don’t shop at Salvation Army stores, and I tell my friends not to donate or shop there. Here’s why.

A zillion years ago when I was a very young child, we’re talking in the late 50s or early 60s, my family needed financial help. Serious financial help. We needed food, clothes and money to pay for heat. One day my mother worked up her courage and beat down her shame and despair enough to ask for assistance. She dressed in her best clothes, walked to the bus stop (in my memory I can still see and hear her clomping down the street in those high heels). Some hours later she returned, defeated, and with an angry, frantic, trapped look in her eyes.

My mother had gone to Salvation Army to ask for help and was refused. I don’t know the specifics of her encounter because I wasn’t there and I was just a child. I do know that she cried when she got home. She blamed racism “Why should they help a well-dressed white woman?” and she blamed her own “stupidity” for getting dressed up to make her case for need. But she was trying to make a good impression and appear worthy of help. She wore her best holiday dress and, as always, she “put on her face.” Later she understood her attempts to impress were misguided. She might have garnered more sympathy / support had she arrived without makeup and combed hair. She "didn’t look poor enough," she surmised afterward. I wonder whether she also provided the supporting documentation that was likely required. She would have needed evidence of food stamps or unemployment checks, I suppose, even then. We had those things, but whether she brought them along I don’t know.

In any event, we didn’t get help from Salvation Army. My mother carried a grudge against them for the rest of her long life. In her honor (and in mine) I continue to do so. I don’t give to and I don’t patronize Salvation Army because they didn’t help my family when we really needed it. Not once. Not with food, clothing, holiday gifts, nothing.

I won’t even go into how sick I got eating spoiled trayfe baloney. My mother fed it to her youngest two children as a cost saving measure. I was so hungry I ate it (fast!) even though it was rank. It all came back up, “return to sender.”

We never did that again, either.

I suggest you find other places to donate generously to those in need. In memory of my mother.

The Doing of Art

I still am not happy about the colder weather and now that we are back on standard time, the dark comes so early. It can be quite disheartening. I miss the sunshine and long days terribly. All I can do is keep doing what I’m doing. I work, I make art, I write, talk with friends, and try to get through the dark cold time of the year as best I can (I know, we are only just beginning).

Realizing the importance of visual expression for creative and mental health, I make time to produce and enjoy personal art despite the short days, my busy schedule and uncertain mood. I recommend the same for all my readers. Art doesn’t have to be complicated (something I tend to forget). The important thing is the doing of it.

I am pleased to announce my art is now available for purchase here: http://www.americanframe.com/search.aspx?prodtype=Art&keyword=boyes

Northern Michigan October 2009

Grand Traverse Bay

Jacques Torres, Traverse City

Tangled Roots, Upper Peninsula near Tahquamenon Falls

Tahquamenon Falls

Tahquamenon Falls, second in power to Niagara

I’m trying not to be unhappy about summer being over. I’m not succeeding. With my resources feeling full and empty at the same time, I keep making art. It’s all I know how to do to fight the blues. My current best art fun is on polyvore.com and also on watercolor paper. I’m flinging color and pattern everywhere. Then I cut out portions that suit me as stand-alone pieces, or at the very least, for use as note cards…
Not that I ever write on actual-physical-touch-and-hold-note-cards much anymore.
I’m coming around to accepting the harsh reality of seasonal change. I suspect it’s more about existential angst than fall. The seasons of the year are a metaphor for my personal seasons. Or maybe it’s about technology supplanting touch-and-hold art products.
I don’t like it. Not one bit.
So I do not go softly. No. I go grumblingly, making sure everyone around me knows my feelings about it. Complaining about the weather is a time-honored tradition in Michigan. If not for complaining, well, what else can we do? I know, I know, I know. We can move. I’ve heard that before. I’ve DONE that before. I lived away from Michigan more than 36 years. Most of that time was in New Mexico. I will say this for Albuquerque – the weather is not so bad.
When I lived in Albuquerque, I went to New Moon drumming circles every month – for something like three years – at the studio of my friend and colleague Judith Roderick. She was a batik artist making silk scarves. She’d throw salt on the wet dye. I discovered I can do that with watercolor on paper, too. It adds layers of interest as the color pulls and pools on contact with the salt. Ahhh, chemistry. But I digress.
The New Moon in October this year is on the 18th. What’s special about this? I am offering a workshop at Crazy Wisdom Bookstore here in Ann Arbor on that day about the Mandala. We’re going to make art as a group. The only thing better than making art is making art in the company of others. It enriches the experience. Brings energy. Ideas. Comfort. Strength. Mystery. Support. Courage. It’s a wonderful thing.

I hope you will join us. 1-3 PM at Crazy Wisdom, 114 S. Main Street in Ann Arbor.
You can learn more about the workshop here: October Workshop

View 'Art Heals' on Polyvore