Bodhisattva

I talk about Pema Chodron quite a lot on this blog. It was my psychologist who introduced me to her writing by recommending Start Where You Are. Since that first introduction I fell in love with her way of writing and sharing her thoughts with the world. Though we have never met I admire her spirit and the energy she shares through her interpretation of Buddhist teachings.

Another strong, inspiring woman my psychologist encouraged me to look up was Hazel Dooney. An Australian artist, Dooney is proof of what dedication to ones craft can result in. She accepts that she cannot help but be an artist and in doing so she accepts that it is her responsibility to make her life happen. She keeps a blog of her experience as a self made, self marketing creative. One of the reoccurring themes in her blog is her general distaste for art competitions.

Today my love for Pema Chodron's teaching and my respect for Hazel Dooney's convictions came together in what could have been a moment of utter frustration, the story of which started last year at about this time.

When I first arrived in London I was overcome with the abundance of opportunity. I had lived most of my life in a city who's population had only just reached one million. It has one museum, a small theatre block, a newly opened art space and a handful of art supply stores. Compared to London, home of the greatest theatre district in the world, over two hundred museums, countless galleries and dozens of art supply stores, Calgary is a wasteland. Don't get me wrong, I adore Calgary and it will always be my home, but London just has so much more! A trip on the Underground is a parade past posters, billboards, signs and video advertisements for music, film, theatre and art. I immediately began scanning and filing away the advertisements I was seeing, and thus I noticed the BP Portrait Awards. I looked it up and discovered a competition open to any artist over eighteen to submit a portrait which could be selected and displayed in

the National Portrait Gallery just off of Trafalgar Square. The deadline for entries was only a month off, however, and I knew rushing something just for the sake of submission wouldn't be a wise choice. Besides, it was a yearly competition so I could just wait until 2011.

Flash forward several months to the summer. My partner forwarded me an email regarding an opportunity to attend a portraiture painting class at the National Portrait Gallery. Hosted by Sadie Lee, it seemed like a wonderful way to spend a Saturday and without hesitation I paid the fee and signed up. I quickly discovered that Sadie was a past winner of the BP Portrait Award and that her painting had not only been selected for the NPG showing, but was used to advertise the event. She described the odd sense of uncomfortable pride experienced at seeing her portrait displayed on the back of double-decker buses and along the platforms of the Underground.

Her story renewed my desire to create a painting which could be submitted to the competition but I was still struggling with who I could paint. Inspired by Sadie's passion for female artists I focused my mind on creating sketches of inspiring women, putting any thoughts of portrait painting to one side. I figured it would come to me when it came to me and I'm a strong believer in not forcing creativity. As it happened, the decision of who to paint came only a few weeks later. I was sat out in the garden, enjoying the shelter of the pergola on an extremely glorious summer day. I'd been working on a few sketches at once, one being Pema Chodron. I finished the shading and pulled my camera out to take a shot for my blog. The more I looked at what I'd drawn the more pleased I was. Sometimes I create something so incredibly good I'm

stunned that it's actually my own work. I was feeling this and thinking this when it occurred to me that the ease I felt when drawing Pema came from the admiration I feel for her.

I knew that hers was a portrait I would love to paint.

I began my initial sketches in the autumn and have been working on the portrait ever since. I referenced several different photos of her to create my own image. I also explored several different techniques using both acrylic and oil to create an effect which focuses on her robes being the punctum of the portrait. The flatness and smooth sheen of the acrylic on her robes and in the background contrasts wonderfully against the texture of the oils I used for her face. The text fits with the theme I've chosen for my Buddhist paintings, where I choose a Buddhist quote and write my own re-iteration of it. In this case I have explored my feelings on the student/teacher relationships in life based on the quote:

"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense. "

- Buddha

The greatest teachers in my life have all taught me that I know the answers to all my own questions and that none of those answers are ever written in stone. Which brings me to today.

This morning I arose early, prepared my oils and brushes and set to work. I knew today was the day this painting would be complete. I always know because I get this feeling of contentment when I feel at ease with the canvas. There was very little left to do so I took my time, enjoying the earl morning quiet as I applied brush to canvas. When her face was done I set my brush to one side and pulled out my journal, which had notes I'd taken for the text. I began sketching the text out on a pad of paper, getting a feel for how the words would look.

Wanting to savour the moment I decided to go to the BP Awards page and look up all the submission details so I knew I'd have everything ready for the 2011 submission, the submission I'd been preparing myself for since this time last year. I read through the rules, satisfied myself that my painting was perfectly suitable, and clicked the online submission link. Halfway through the form I came across a tick box with a red asterisk indicating it as a required field. The text next to it read "I confirm that I have met the sitter".

I can't say that my heart sank, exactly. It was more a feeling of bemusement and mild frustration which took over. The rules had stated the portrait needed to be done from a sitting or study from life. I figured photographs counted as a study from life and I'd been covered. I didn't realise that the study from life only counted if the photograph had been taken with my own point-and-shoot.

The painting I'd been working on for months to submit to this contest could not be submitted to this contest. I wasn't quite sure how I felt and so I cried a bit, ranted a little, but ultimately I wasn't terribly upset. All my reactions felt more like what I thought I should be doing, when really I was quite calm about the whole thing. I wasn't even particularly frustrated with myself for getting it wrong. And that was when I understood Hazel's comments on competitions and galleries. When I truly appreciated what she meant when she said a competition takes away from the abilities of the artist.

It is inarguable that art is in the eye of the beholder. If art can only be defined by the artist or the person who appreciates the piece, how can we possibly judge one piece of art against another unless they are identical studies? I didn't want to start over with another portrait just for the sake of having a portrait to submit. I hadn't painted this portrait for the sake of having a portrait to submit to a contest. I'd painted the portrait because I wanted to. I knew upon starting it that I wanted to give the portrait to Pema. I painted it to strengthen my skills. I painted it to show my respect. I painted it to put my feelings down on canvas and offer them to the world to admire or hate or feel indifferent towards. I painted it because I'm an artist, and that's what I do.

I'm awarding myself the 'Portrait in oil and acrylic' award for this piece which I've titled 'Bodhisattva'. The award for having completed the painting is the opportunity to finally meet Pema Chodron as I intend to deliver it to her by hand.

Mighty Women - Angelica Kauffmann and Mary Moser

Waiting for paint to dry...seems like the perfect time to update my blog.

Continuing on my journey to learn as much as possible about influential women throughout history, I was pleased as punch that the last artist-led drop-in sketch class at the National Portrait Gallery was held in the same room as portraits of these two women.

Angelica Kauffmann and Mary Moser were the two female founders of the Royal Academy when it was established in 1768. There is a famous painting depicting the founders of the Royal Academy which, at first glance, would appear not to have any women in it. This was because it was considered improper for a woman to be in the room with a nude model, however, the two are included. Look closely and see if you can find them.

And remember them the next time someone asks you to name five famous female artist.

Why Molly Gordon is on my list of Mighty Women

My psychologist has been more than just a mental health practitioner. She's also been a business coach. She almost always ends our sessions with a flurry of links, names and book titles that may or may not help me to market my work, find inspiration and lead the life I want. I haven't always followed the links right off or been motivated to get to the library and take out a specific title, but eventually, if I was meant to, I've taken the time to see just what she was going on about.

One such recommendation was for Molly Gordon, who keeps a marvellous blog, which she also sends out as a regular online newsletter. I'm not usually a fan of the e-newsletter since they generally have too much going on in them and ultimately they only serve to clog my inbox.

But this one is different. It's thought provoking, quick to read but also hugely helpful. Her last one was all about shining.

It was apt as lately I've not been feeling particularly shiny or full of *glee*. In fact, I've been feeling anything but confident, which tends to scare the crap out of me.

But her newsletter tends to serve as a reminder and it almost always seems to coincide with where I'm at and what current 'swift kick' I require. The funny thing about this most recent one, which is about finding one little thing to do to remind you of your role, to build your confidence and remember who you are, is I didn't read it until today but I did the 'homework' this week.

Typically we are our own worst critic. I think that when it comes to creativity people assume this means that, as an artist, we are most critical of our own work. I have occasionally thought something I'd done has been absolute rubbish, but I'd say 85% of the time I am extremely satisfied with the outcome of my art. I love my paintings and I love sharing them with the world.

Where I become critical is in my ability to prioritise. I tend to beat myself up for little things like not updating my blog frequently enough, not finishing a painting in the timeline I thought it would take, not going on twitter often enough to promote links to my available prints. I could keep listing all the reasons I sometimes feel that I'm just not doing 'enough' but I know it doesn't help anything. The idea of 'enough' is relative anyway and I've yet to meet someone who wasn't surprised at how quickly I get things done. Most of the time I'm surprised at how quickly I get things done, which might be why I'm disappointed if this doesn't happen.

What it all boils down to is learning to let go of that attachment to a specific, pre-determined timeline and lowering my expectations so when I look back on a week, instead of seeing everything I didn't do, everything I did stands out proudly.

Like this week:

I painted for three hours, starting and nearly finishing a single tarot card.

I began sketching another tarot card.

I updated my blog.

I attended the Queer Perspectives talk at the NPG

I went to the sketch class at the NPG

So I would say I shone quite a lot this past week. I shine quite a lot most days, even if I find it difficult to see. I think we can all find it challenging to see what we accomplish in our day to day lives when we focus too much on how we didn't do something we'd wanted to do. So please remember that you are a brilliant star in your own universe and remember the ever so clever Oscar Wilde quote below, which is credited to another mighty woman, the talented Maggi Hambling.

Mary Beale

I know I keep saying it but it's true:

Who needs art school when you have London?

Last Friday I attended the free artist led drop-in sketch class at the National Portrait Gallery.

Yes, you read that right.

I didn't get the name of the artist as she didn't introduce herself. She just launched right into things, handing out paper, charcoal, pencils and erasers.

"We're going to do perspective," she said, "So I want you to set yourself up looking down one of these corridors."

I chose the one everyone else didn't, leaning against the wall, my sketchbook on my lap.

I'm not adverse to perspective. It's actually something that's never really bothered me. I've just not seen it as difficult. This was, though. Probably because I've not done it for such a long time, and definitely not on this scale. I was drawing the doorways as they stretched out, stacked inside each other. I gave it four solid attempts, my lines becoming more free and loose with each new start. Eventually I got a desirable sketch and I flipped to a fresh page to sketch Mary Beale.

I felt I'd earned it.

Mary Beale, one of the first female artists on record. Her mother died when she was very young and her father, who was a painter, raised her to follow in his footsteps. It was an opportunity not granted to women in the 1600's and so she is one of very few. She is also largely unheard of and in the spirit of Sadie Lee's project to educate people of the famous women in art history, I ask you to remember her name.

Under Painting

"Where did you study?"

For some reason I always let out a small barking laugh when someone asks me that question. Yesterday I was asked a lot and I found myself smirking slightly.

Where do I study? Everywhere. Everything in life is a study that can be applied to my artwork.

Certainly, there are techniques that can be taught, but a lot of it is intuitive and ultimately, it's about self expression. For some reason though, I really can't stand doing self portraits, which is why I portray myself as a wolf so frequently. Of course, this was also why I chose to sign up for Sadie Lee's Portraiture class.

I can pull off relatively accurate portrait drawings when I'm in the right head space, but when it comes to drawing a self portrait I cringe. It's my mouth. I can never get it right. And then the fact that I wear glasses and any artist can tell you they're ridiculously difficult. Even photographers are inclined to ask you to take them off for the glare they cause.

So I signed up for my first official 'art lesson' since high school because I knew it would make me have to do something I am entirely uncomfortable with. It was held at the National Portrait Gallery, which just sounds really cool, doesn't it?

'I attended a class on Acrylic Portraiture this Saturday, taught by Sadie Lee at the NPG in London.'

It was really cool, but not because of where it was or who it was (Sadie is brilliant, albeit a bit blunt.) but because it was so different for me. I don't sit in a classroom when I try new techniques. I didn't get instruction on how to use gouache or how quickly one must work when working with water based paints. Certainly there was an element of lesson in High School, but most of this was very simplistic and even then I had to figure a lot of it out on my own.

I figured out under painting when I started 'Guardian'. I was nineteen then, maybe twenty? It occurred to me that, like painting a wall, brighter colours took better when they had a tinted undercoating. Of course my under painting was generally always done in white tinted the colour of the top-coat. I knew a lot of artists used the technique and often grey or green was used. I'd even tried grey in a tentative way once before, but still always tinted with my overcoat colour.

Yesterday Sadie had us do several styles of the same photograph. My favourite was actually the very wet and blobby acrylic on water colour paper, but the ultimate finished project would be the Katz Style canvas. I can't say I'm entirely pleased with the result. The proportions aren't right. But the glasses work and I'm actually really pleased with the light and shading of the sleeves, which make it look like real material.

I did learn a lot and I'm excited to delve further into it. I feel like I've got new tools to experiment with and new ways to take my artwork further. I also got a lovely history lesson about Mary Beale, England's first female oil painter and Angelica Kauffmann, one of the founding members of the Royal Academy. I mention them as Sadie has made it her personal mission to highlight these generally forgotten women in history and I would like to contribute to her cause.

Following the class I went elephant hunting. It was a gorgeous day, I felt the need to stretch my legs, and Green Park was only a short jaunt away. Here they are: a whole parade of elephants.

London Journal - Tate and NPG

It's World Book Day, apparently. Thanks to google, I also know that it's Vivaldi's Birthday. First thing I did was download some of his music and put it on my iPod. Then, to celebrate I decided to march fourth and see what fun I could have by visiting Tate Britain in the morning and the National Portrait Gallery in the afternoon.

Tate Modern and Tate Britain are across the Thames from one another in the loosest terms. There is a boat you can take between the two, if you wanted to do one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I would like to spend a day that way, but perhaps when the weather is warmer. Besides, I've already been to Tate Modern.

I caught the train to Stockwell, where I switched to the Victoria line and went to Pimlico. This is a very direct route from where I live, but on the day I'd been to the Modern I discovered getting to Tate Britain from there via tube would be a hassle. I assume this is why they have the boat service.

The walk from Pimlico tube station to the museum was pleasant. It's not really 'Spring' yet, but the sun has been shining more often than not lately and today it was managing to break through the clouds frequently. It lit up the white steps of Tate, welcoming me in to yet another of the stunning museums London has to offer.

The key difference between Tate Modern and Tate Britain is the style of art displayed. Moderns artist are still alive or representative of styles which 'pushed the envelope'. Tate Britain has more classic stuff, but not like the National Gallery. This was classic art which, for the time, was cutting edge. I found myself most drawn to the work of John Everett Millais, who depicted Christ in less than flattering terms. My favourite piece of the day would have to be Christ In The House of His Parents, although it was rivaled by the incredible detail and colours of John Linnel's and Samuel Colman's work.

I've discovered that I am just not a fan of Whistler. His work does nothing for me and I moved on quickly from it, to find other wonders to behold.

The next room was full of busts and sculptures, which really were fascinating and fun. There was a little cluster of art students sat in the middle of the floor. They were armed with sketchbooks but didn't seem to be interested in what was before them. They chatted aimlessly as I looked at the works of Alfred Gilbert, Edward Onslow Ford and Fredrick William Pomeroy.

At this point my tummy was starting to rumble. There is much, much more to Tate Britain but I accepted it would have to wait for another day. I took this chance to celebrate World Book Day by visiting the gift shop. I purchased three books:

"Nietzsche, a Graphic Guide" by Laurence Gane & Piero

"The Anatomy & Figure Drawing Artist's Handbook" by Viv Foster

and

"The Book of Dead Philosophers" by Simon Critchley

Entirely pleased with all three purchases, I went to the cafeteria for lunch, before continuing on my way. Next stop, Pimlico to Green Park. At Green Park I switched to Piccadilly line (Which ends at Cockfosters and despite wanting to come across as very mature and grown up, the name is funny and makes me giggle.) to get to Leicester Square. I was going to the National Portrait Gallery, which I've been to before. I went on the closing day of the 'Bowie to the Beatles' exhibit. It was heaving with people that day and once I'd been through the entire thing I simply didn't have the energy to peruse the regular exhibits of the museum. Today seemed the perfect day to accomplish this task and I'm happy to say that I have done just that.

I thought I'd enjoy the more modern wings of the museum, with pictures of more recent historical influence, but it was probably the Tudors which caught my attention the most. I really do love the bloody and sordid history of British royals and having the rich oil paintings of the masters portraying them just added to the stories. My favourite is all the images of infant kings, dressed entirely in frilly white frocks. To do such a thing now would be ridiculous, but it was completely natural and expected then, of course.

How the times have changed.

All in all, it was a lovely way to spend World Book Day. To top it off, I finished a novel whilst riding the train home from the NPG. My first Agatha Christie and my sixth novel of the year. I certainly hope you all spend some time with a book today and I thank you for reading my blog. I may not yet be a published author, but I am a writer and it's wonderful to know that my writing is being enjoyed.