The 4th of July

I dread this holiday. I don't like fireworks. Pretty as they are, they are loud and intrusive to my brain. I do like natural fireworks, lightening, lightening bugs, water reflections, sun sparks, shooting stars, but artificial lights are outside of my comfort zone. I don't know the origin of them, or how they began, but they scare my dogs, as well and many dogs in my neighborhood. I'll sit at home on the 4th, as well as days before and after, because people like to celebrate early and a dog that is penned is in torment when sounds are polluting their ears' hearing. Painting my own light is what will feed my time and soul. Ill set up in the living room, so my animals can be close, and we will listen to loud music with the blinds and shutters closed. I cant imaging the art that will be born. As always, I have a title and image in mind, lets hope I can transfer it to surface. Maybe Winter's paw can make a mark, my beautiful white shepherd. Maybe Bobo's nose will dot and dot, my goofy pound rescue who has to smell every single thing in existence. We will see. As for tonight? I hear the city will begin the celebrations. So, off I go to sleep, so I can be awake all night.


Beyond imagination

complexity in the simple, or what seems to be simple. A blade of grass, Spring flower, many walk by, trample on, cut or poison, but it is life, even for a short while. I sat with a newly budded flower for an hour. I watched various bugs on bug business, walking or crawling by. A butterfly briefly landed, but receiving no invitation from petal, it moved on for bigger business, a bottle brush red, and I was witness to a world. At night I revisited that moment while visiting stars and walking. The feelings, intuitive movements and magic appeared on a new canvas. Even in sorrow, this creative stream is constant and a safe escape for painting worlds beyond imagination

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how to describe my art

The between the lines of living is where the beauty is. The space between the words is where the truth can be found. So much construction of facades, I run to freedom in the places most people pass by, ignore. I capture the feelings, emotions, sensations, and spread them out on canvas like painted magic. That is how I paint. I paint real. Do you see it, feel it? Does any part speak to you. Does the tiny you just born see more than the careful proper person you have become, or not. Maybe not. Maybe you still live in that place of joy and light. 

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My life has changed because of a new dog. Schedules, priorities, and interests have all shifted into a new chapter of my life called, "day walker."  I laugh that a puppy i  thought would be a fun addition has become the main point of every decision, as she, my Winter, has become the hub. Not what I expected, we move together into this new season of Winter and Winter, together. It is good.

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been awhile

Experiencing death of loved ones, living in reality for too long, losing the passage to the creative stream, I plummeted into darkness and found that darkness is essential for lesson learning. That stream of intuitive painting is there too, just different, but still me. I am light and darkness. I live in a body. I embrace it all. It is all a part of what makes me. I am an artist. I am a conduit for magic energy (I have no other word to describe it) so I keep on painting and reinventing myself existence. Color, energy, paint and canvas, dancing with an energy partner who takes my brush and moves me, soul and body to express what is the very essence of me. I am.

So, I ride the wave

It seems that my creative life is fire and energy, or storm and wave. Never is there a placid period where I sit back and relax while contemplating the peaceful beauty of moments in time. I am not a peaceful artist. I see open eyed and open hearted and feel deeply. I rise fast with wings of power, or fall hard to a rocky surface, breath knocked out, but only temporarily. I paint, and I paint, because that is what my passion is. Whether seen or shown or hidden or destroyed, my canvases multiply daily as I dance with the rhythm of color and form, movement and conversation between my mind and the invisible source that I draw from.

Memorial Day Weekend

This is a time for remembering what the military personal in our lives, our country, have done for us. Whether or not you support the military, there are lives that have been given, sacrificed, and families and friends who mourn their passing. I am sensitive to the emotions of others, so when I am in a store or any type of crowd, I feel vibrations from everyone, good or bad, it doesn't matter, I am a sponge. So holidays usually mean that I am in my studio painting, and nowhere near the festivities that others take part in. This weekend I will create from beyond this physical realm. I don't want to think about those who have died, in battle or in life. I want to not think at all, just immerse myself into the atmosphere of creative bliss. My avoidance of the barbeque festivities, parades, memorial services, will not cause a single ripple. I have burnt my candles, said my prayers for the ones I have lost or known. I have done the same for those I did not know. I have sent love into the universe with the hope that I can become a better warrior. Peace and Love to you. Take care of yourselves. Let go of useless bad or sad memories and any guilt you may have. I strive to do my best in any moment, and that is the best I can do.

When I begin to paint

The blank canvas sits on my easel and I have no patience for waiting. I say to myself, I will change clothes first, or cover the floor, or arrange my brushes, but I don't. When a new canvas is placed on the ease,l I have to pick up a brush and make a mark. Two or three or more hours later, I have covered the surface with a first layer, maybe the second, and there will be no breaks until I have come to a place where I can see the end of my creation, where I can visualize it clearly. The first mark is the key to a door that opens for me. There is no turning back-I have seen beyond, and I have already entered the creative stream I will travel on and with. Some say my work feels ethereal, spiritual, magical, or emotional, and it may be all of those things or something different. My paintings may contain something there are no words for yet, or ever. I only know that when I paint, that I paint myself and my experiences when in the intuitive place where  I live.  

Painting with others

Once upon a time I found other artists who "got me." It wasn't by accident. It was by intuition that I took my physical body to the place where like souled humans would be gathered. And we met, and we laughed, and we painted color music, and we became a tribe of connected  creators. As I navigate on earth and through time, I choose my friends, my tribe members, my direction, intuitively. By doing this I avoid much stress. My purpose is to create and share joy, and my path is guided by my inner sight-there is no other way. I know when I meet someone if there is a special connection, and they feel it too, and my heart sings each time our souls touch, because  we have woven a permanent thread into a universal design. It isn't just with artists that I feel this connection, but also with the  open hearted and open minded-the unique individuals who exist beyond the physical the ones who see from the inside out. My own intuition grows with each encounter and as it does I am able to see more clearly into the hearts and minds of others. I can see the places that need healing, or comfort, and I can offer myself as a channel. I can also see the ones to avoid,  and I remove myself from their space. I am an independent woman, an artist, and a warrior, but I am also gifted with a special energy to share when needed. The point?  I painted with other artists this past winter. I met other healers, seers, and helpers. When I left that magical place, my own magic had hatched from its stony shell. Today I celebrate the life I have on this earth and for all eternity. I honor the tools that I have been gifted, the tools that help me find balance.                                                     Peace and love to you.  


When I Have to Stop Painting

I have to stop the actual physical process of applying paint to canvas, when there is work to be done. I have book keeping, supply buying, bill paying, and packaging and shipping to do, and I do it all well, or designate those who do-so my business runs smoothly. But, I suffer if the work takes too long. The energies and images that I connect to and with, begin to build and expand until I have to express them creatively or burst. For the last three days I was in Florida setting up my business account with my new business manager. She took my box of stuff and put it all neatly in a computer file. She organized and actually enjoyed doing it, as I looked on with amazement that her head was not exploding. After answering a few questions that began with, "what the heck is this?"  I was free to paint, and paint I did. I used the motel table and left this plane of existence to fly into my creative zone. I brought back image and color and color music, and I recorded a piece of all I saw onto a 24X24 inch canvas.  Oh the joy of my gift, and I am so thankful for it. Now home again in my studio, my messy disorganized studio, I am arranging color and canvas and feeling the excitement grow as dusk is closer and my painting time begins. I will be gone into that infinite place until dawn. Brush and paint and intuition will dance and music will play in the universe as I combine elements and compile them into surface for others to see and resonate with. I am an artist!!!!! 

When I have to force myself to stop painting

To create, for me, is to enter into a spiritual door, the opening to that world where I am free to expand, explore, fly.  There isn't a moment that I am not in ecstasy when a brush is in my hand and a blank canvas is waiting to carry the colors that seem to appear in the air like music waiting for expression. As I paint, I hear the colors, and I am lost in a world of symphony that spirals into a vast space without end. Sometimes, when I am feeling too unattached from this physical world, I listen to music to keep me grounded. Those are the days I am tired or feeling the stress of everyday logical existence, and my ability to return to a solid mental place is hindered-my desire to fly is strong. When I have these days, I paint and paint, and soar and soar, and intuitively place marks on surface that map my journey. Last night was a night of swilling traveling. My music was early 70's. The songs wove memories into a design that melded with pictures of my new explorations. The result was quite interesting. This morning I was greeted with a hundred paintings on one small canvas. I had to eliminate the excess energy. I painted with silence today and removed much of the composition.  Now finished,  I stop for the evening to remind myself that I am an artist who is open to so many forces, that I need to prepare myself before launching myself away.  There is a responsibility in letting creativity have its full rein, and even though the intuition is the stream I ride, I am the one that steers. And so it goes. I take note, and I will be a little more careful this week as I begin to paint really large! I am excited about bringing more to this present state, but I want to make sure that when I paint, that it is me doing the brush work and not notes from an album playing havoc with my gift. I desire to bring new light to this world, not the warm burn of my personal past memories. I am not painting a diary, after all. I am painting infinity, the brightness there, the hope in all the universe that I want to present to the viewer as an artist who wishes to share the goodness that I find.

The Emergency Room Revelation

I visited the Santa Fe hospital because I couldn't breathe. It was my last night there, and all week I had been living on short gasping breaths, too stubborn to take one moment away from my beloved earth space, my newly begun painting, and my search for rocks and treasures in the dirt. I just  moved forward, rested, moved, and rested until the last night I gave out. Now I truly believe that there is a reason for everything that happens in our lives. I may not know what the reason is, but I do respect that belief and attempt to appreciate the rocks that sometimes seem to be blocking my amazing path in this life. That last night in Santa Fe I was admitted to the emergency room. I was x-rayed, blood tested, and finally given a breathing treatment that enabled me to take a deep breath for the first time in five days. The lesson learned? There is a purpose and reason for everything-a special gift in each moment, if we take time to stop and "breathe." Our soul's breath is what we need to fill, and it took me literally having to go to the hospital suffocating to learn that lesson. I always paint with my spiritual self-open and eager to enter the creative stream that carries me freely, but between the painting times, I sometimes neglect the need for quiet meditation-the stilling of the mind-the inner breath of magic that can only be inhaled in solitude.  I am grateful. I am breathing. I am ready! I am wiser :)

Hiding from the sun today

The world sometimes feels larger to me at night, or on cloudy rainy days. I like the feel of assumed privacy isolation. I create better during these times. When I am not painting, I am usually playing my native flute or writing. This poem expresses my feelings, because today is, “writing during painting break time.”

                                              To Sleep in Sunlight

Buried deep with the boughs of speckled sparks of here and there

Light invading-dancing spotting

Failing to awake my slumber

Waiting for the night-I sleep

Dreaming in the dancing sunlight

Deep within the evergreen

High above the ground and safe

Waving, rocking with the breeze

Waiting for my Mother Moon

And the wolf song calling me.

--Peace and Light to you--

It is a dream day-March 27th

  Glorious sky all blue-solid and clear, except for that one little slice of moon watching me as I watch her.   She followed me down the street earlier, and now sits outside my office window, plunked down in that unbelievable carpet of hue. The fact that I am paralyzed with wonder attests to the fact that I have been overcome with beauty. I have that weakness that tethers me to earth sometimes.  I am a beauty addict, and when I crave something it is mine, and I crave more of this day.  So I will gather myself together and head to the river.  Painting time will commence this night with new energy, and the moon will light my way back through trees only barely budded.   

I have entered a new phase in my life

What does it mean to enter a new phase in your life? How the heck would I know. Every phase is different-no reference point to measure from.  I just know that I have entered unfamiliar territory lately. Something has shifted, and the energy that dresses me each morning is different. I feel bigger, somehow, and that is invigorating! It is like I have shed some shell and grown without a new one. I can accept that totally. Confinement of any kind offends my sense of free flying imaginary dragon, and dragons have scales, not shells, so I suppose I have upgraded my mental image of myself, and that in itself is so funny that I am sitting alone in a room giggling.  If you know me well, you know that I have absolutely no filters. I breeze through the world/society, here and there, in total ecstasy in the moment to moment of miracles that life offers. Tonight the clash of opposing colors on canvas thrilled me. Almost connecting-touching, neutralizing each other, instead they flirted on the edge, pushed a bit here and there, touched then retreated, leaving a tinged muddy squiggle, before rising in pure pigment to reign over what was just one brush stroke. Red!! red and roaring towards green-kissing the lip, mingling just enough for danger, then retreating back while grabbing an orange on the run.  Tonight, like many nights, I danced with color. But, tonight the color taunted me to dare to attack and rearrange all the pigments, just to the edge of bla. Haha!!! I don't even feel a bit guilty for the mess I made, for as the brush began to work that strange power took over, and I was a helpless partner in a passion dance. I love it! I love my life! I love creating with forces that drive me, compel me, tempt me, and disguise themselves as mere material objects. I know better, because I know things. I feel things. I see things. And I travel on my personal stream of creative wonder with a roar from my heart and joy in the ride. I am Marti, and I move with the rhythm of the universe. 

Sometimes I write to relax

Sometimes my mind, most times my mind, works faster than a computer. I make keyboard mistakes.  I had a writer send me a private message about my words. I was given advice about the technical aspects required for good writing and how I was missing the mark, as far as she was concerned. Ok, and what does this mean? This means that my writing does not fit into her framework of required adherence to rules. What do I think of this? I think nothing, because I write from the same stream of creativity that I paint from. When I write or paint, the words, colors, color music, all flow and create a surface that mirrors the wonders of my journey into my intuitive destination. Do I misspell when I write? Of course, at times I probably do, and I don't care enough to have concern about that. My writing is my sharing of thoughts-it is my break from painting. It is my relaxation. My painting is sharing pieces of infinity-it is my desire, my love, my passion, my need. I am an artist, whether using paint on canvas, words on paper, or notes to the air from my flute.  I share the experience of joy that I encounter every moment of everyday, and I drink in the energy of response from those who feel what I feel, or want to. Life is so good, that I don't have time for negativity. I prefer to create my own reality, and move quickly away from the ones who choose to instruct me, instead of creating their own path.

Riding the energy wave

I am not sure what it is called, but sometimes when I paint, I feel as if a great wave has picked me up and it carrying me over a limitless ocean with depths beyond view, and sky that unfolds forever. I leave everyday reality, and my brush records the journey as I intuitively choose color, texture, and form to dance upon the white surface, only a small white dot compared to that great sea of infinity.  And it is a dance, you see, complete with music that sounds like color, or color that paints like music-it is all the same. There is no time, to barriers, just pure joy captured on my canvas. 

Welcome to Spring

Paints ready, windows open, canvas on easel, and I begin. It is a good day for reaching beyond and grabbing onto energies and realities that dance in form and color. I have begun to paint earlier than usual, not waiting for dusk to sweep me into that magical entrance. Visions and feelings of New Mexico have invaded my night dreams and day dreams too. I feel warmth and space, and I am excited to see where this path will lead me. Ten hours to work, and the studio is calling, along with the birds that wait outside the window on the newly bloomed camellia bush. I am as excited as a kid! Peace and light to you :) 

When I use inner vision

Already I have written this post, and it has disappeared somewhere into cyber space, I suppose. My first attempt was on my kindle fire. There is a great lesson here. Only use the best resources to express your intentions-whatever they are. When painting, I use quality supplies, paints, brushes, etc. When writing, I use, like now, a computer to get the best results when sharing my words. My previous post referred to a painting I had begun on Friday night. Also I wrote about my feeble attempt to delete a profile photo from Facebook, and instead, deleted myself, then added me back three different times. What is the correlation? I think the universe is telling me, over and over, to stop trying to control and start to listen and absorb. My Friday night painting was purposely painted in the dark. I had placed my palette with paint, my water, and my brushes, within reach. Then I began to visualize my canvas surface with an image I could see in my mind. I painted long into the night, in the dark, and I only saw my results today. Amazing! It is as if the image in my mind became an energy that flowed down my arm, onto my brush, and then to canvas surface. With only a few differences, it is exactly what I had imagined. What does this mean? I have no clue, but I do know that on Friday night I had inner vision, and that if I had it then, why not all the time? And, if I can achieve this vision in the light, the possibilities of viewing the world are endless-or are they? Maybe the inner vision is the only vision-the ultimate "seeing!"  I will file these questions away for now. It is studio time, and no thinking allowed. Peace and Love to you.

When it rains, I shine.

I love winter the most, but second to that is a rainy day, clouds and no shadows-wind. Today is that environment, and I will paint through the hours, into the night, and until tomorrow's dawn pulls me back to the physical .  Studio time is my favorite time. To others, I may seem to be working in a small room, but in reality my creative space has no physical boundaries.  The very air I breathe in my studio, is filled with energy light and a supernatural force I have no words for. I can only explain that my thinking mind rests, while my intuition wakes and creates, and my artist soul travels through infinity on what I call, "my creative stream."