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The gorge follows me into the studio, grabs my hands and begs them to paint her. There are great skies there over the Columbia River...big skies, dramatic skies. Skies that reach deeply into the water and pull me down to its reflective depths. We recently followed the light up Beacon Rock as the sun was setting - even as the light fades quickly now, you are arriving. In that fading light, which raced down the cliff walls nearly faster than we could race up the rock, in that softly illuminated sky, my senses reeled for a moment - overwhelmed by the grandeur of that place, that day, my life, the bright...wedge of freedom in my own heart. Whyte's words reached into my depths just as the light penetrated the river. Oh. About the art: inspired by a photograph I took in the gorge, this piece was loosely drawn with chunky charcoal, then blended into a monochromatic compositional map by adding water and titanium white. Using only the colors from an exquisite fantasy painting created by my partner (a color palette shift and a challenge for me) and using a rubber wedge, squeegee, large paintbrush and a spray bottle, the requisite 80 million layers were added. Linework created using stabilo woody pencils (my favorites). The bulk of this piece was created during Portland Open Studios, with finishing layers after several days of pondering and sneaking up on the piece to see what worked and what did not.
A huge THANK YOU to all who came out for Portland Open Studios! I was overwhelmed and so touched by the heartfelt connections, positive comments and encouragement...and also by the number of paintings which found homes, connected with collectors and brought smiles and joy. Holy macaroons! An amazing event!
La Maison Magnifique du Malarkey is now open by appointment - send an email and let me know when you'd like to stop by. Wonder Mike will be there to greet you!
Sometimes the art tells a story I didn't know I needed to hear...until I hear it. What began as a rough charcoal sketch (and, in the end, decided to remain rough and sketchy), became instead a story of being present in the midst of change. The ever-present change, shapeshifting, flowing nature of being that asks us to settle in to being, well, unsettled. The pose and awkward arms of this figure captures the way I feel most days, living at the edge of my eyeballs, arms akimbo, trying to appear graceful while exuding awkward attempts at balancing.
We live in a world where we "tell all" (what we had for dinner, what our pets are doing, what our neighbors are up to) but where our hearts are seldom spoken. And if we do speak them, we don't speak them all.
When I speak all of my heart, it is terrifying to do so. I feel so vulnerable, so exposed. I cannot help but tremble and be tearful when I speak like this, open-heartedly. Recently, in sharing a dream of mine, I learned it was entirely out of my reach, and I nearly wished I had not spoken my heart's desire. And yet....as the days pass I feel the love I have given myself by speaking it, and the deep trust of the other in my sharing of it. And I have the courage to do it again. Courage, it seems, grows with the practice of it. Thank you, dear reader, for welcoming my words into your own heart. You encourage me to keep speaking them. xo
The order of things has been on my mind. And the universe gave me the above unicorn wisdom in the midst of my pondering. And it then double nudged me with this quote from Tony award winner Andre De Shields: Slowly is the fastest way to get to where you want to be. Oh! Maybe I'll take a long nap to be sure this sinks in. Isn't the order of things THINK, NAP, KNOW?
But fear (like loneliness and sadness) are just tiny specs of the many things that are Lola. It isn't right that it should hold such power and demand so much attention. For now, I am only getting comfortable with the idea that I can be constantly uncomfortable. Sitting in the hot seat and looking at the thing makes me squirmy. Can I really do that all the time? Maybe. Because the discomfort says I am challenging the thing instead of looking away. Facing fear is an ironic bravery, isn't it? It says I am not afraid of being afraid.
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AuthorJen Jovan and her imaJENation 
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January 2022
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