Category Archives: art

Mar31

A Soft Fascination…from the sitooterie

Posted on by
Standard

The past week has been a bit challenging. I haven’t felt well for a couple of weeks, but the fatigue finally took me down. I called the doctor. I’m still waiting on lab results, but I likely have an infection, perhaps a flare-up of Lyme, something chronically auto-immune. It’s my life now. That said, I’m grateful that my illness is invisible and manageable. I’m learning to live with it. I need far more sleep than most people, and I’m learning to allow for that.

The biggest factor in maintaining my mental health is being creative, and that can be evasive when I am tired. You see, I lose my curiosity and become lethargic…or I become lethargic and I lose my curiosity. I’m easily confused. I am less able to still mind and body and less likely to be internally moved; I seek a meaningful distraction.

I have always read voraciously. There is never enough to read that I find compelling. Love memoir, murder mystery, biography, tarot mythology, interior design and more. Since feeling punky the past couple of weeks I have been laying around reading. I’ve read Designing Rooms with Joie De Vivre by Amanda Reynal. I’ve read How To Be Old by Lyn Slater, A Walk Through the Forest of Souls by Rachel Pollack, and It’s Not You by Ramani Durvasula, PhD. All in hard cover, old school. I would recommend each of them. I’m obsessed with the weight and smell and sound of a book. I’ll buy used whenever possible. I dog ear corners, mark pages with handmade and improvised book marks and if I intend to keep the tome and read it again or use it as reference, I scribble thoughts in the margins. I really use my books. I’ve got a Kindle device and the app on my phone, linked to more than one library membership. That just sucks the joy out of reading for me.

But I have not felt creative at all. Friends have tried to call me out, to get me to “do something, Susan, even if it’s wrong,” I hear my Mother say in my head. I ignore their promptings. It has taken an “accidental” discovery of some new idea, and suddenly I am fascinated with soft fascination. Did you know about this? Have you been holding out on me?! Let me introduce you to this lovely artist, Jane Lindsey. She’s my inspiration this week. She will explain soft fascination, and we will all be better off for having met her.

“Unused creativity is not benign. It doesn’t just disappear. It lives within us until it is expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear. Unexpressed creativity starts to kill us from inside.” – Brene’ Brown

Mar11

“terribly, terribly lucky”

Posted on by
Standard

People often assume I have money. I don’t. Actually I qualify for government assistance as I now live below the poverty line. I’m not ashamed of that, nor proud. It just is.

I grew up with some affluence, and was fortunate enough to attend a private high school, Kingswood School at Cranbrook, in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. My name, along with the other sixty-two girls in my graduating class, is carved into a wooden panel in the assembly hall. If you’ve heard me talk about that experience, you have heard me say that it was “the real Hogwart’s.” It was a magical time for me. For starters, I got to leave home. Not only could I fill my senior schedule with art classes, but I was allowed to audit some of the graduate courses at The Cranbrook Academy of Art across campus…the gorgeous, mystical campus.

We were required to wear dresses or skirts back then, and so I set about finding a way to rebel. Let me just admit here that I would often thoughtlessly rebel just for the sake of rebelling, cushioned by affluence and privilege. There was much to rebel against in those days, but I certainly didn’t understand the scope of my naivete’. Saturdays I worked at the Saks Fifth Avenue store next to the Fisher Building in downtown Detroit, my other magical haunt. I wanted a discount and money to buy my own clothes without scrutiny. And I also shopped at the Goodwill and my favorite store, St. Vincent de Paul Charity shop. I’d buy vintage corduroy poodle skirts (it was the early 1970’s) and take out the front seam to show as much thigh as I could get away with, pair them with the craziest patterned stockings and leggings I could find, and my $350. dollar Italian leather platform shoes I paid for with my Saks earnings.

Give yourself the gift of watching these wildly indomitable women through the entire film; you’ll be so glad you did. And then take a tour of the magnificent art and architecture of Kingwood School. “Heaven” was my favorite escape. Even then I would sneak out through a window to daydream on the roof in solitude. Believe me, I never took a moment of it for granted. I still don’t.

Feb7

the right thing for you to do:

Posted on by
Standard

What if biophilic design is a mirror of our interior reality? What if all design, all art, all expression, is a mirror of our interior reality? Could it be anything else? I don’t think so.

I’ve said here that I do not know how to separate my inner life from the way I live. All interior design is an expression of as within, so without. All art is a natural process. It requires we live in a state of curiosity, of inner exploration. It’s a constant challenge; there are far more questions than answers. If you aren’t living with the questions, how do you know faith?

Faith is not an intellectual commodity. It’s an innate trust in the process of life. What if we give the heart a chance?

“I’m good at being uncomfortable, so I can’t stop changing all the time…” – Fiona Apple

Feb4

A Limited Gig

Posted on by
Standard

Are you okay with dying? Artist Peter van Straten says no. He’s completely fallen in love with reality. “If you don’t take reality for granted, then whatever is in front of you is miraculous.”

How insightful he is, to realize that when you are not friends with yourself you are in solitary confinement. That’s very different than choosing solitude. Only recently have I come to understand that I have been a solitary person my entire life. I craved it as a child and still do, probably more solitude than most people could handle. I am my own best friend. If you have learned how to be your own worst enemy, you can learn how to be your own best friend.

Solitude restores me. I’m just beginning to realize what a gift that is. But I have had to fight for solitude my entire life. I have never taken it for granted, nor the company of my imagination. I’m not saying I’m always happy; I’ve just never held happiness as the measure of a meaningful life. My emotional state is and always has been like the weather – wait a bit and it will change. Deep at the core of my being there is a peace that has never faltered. I believe it was hard-wired in at birth. I think that’s why I fell in love with Lady Gaga the first time I heard Born This Way. We are born this way; we are born whole. That attitude has allowed me to fall in love with reality in all it’s resplendency.

This chaotic, insane, completely buggered world is fascinating to me. If offered a subscription renewal, I’d sign up again. Like anyone, I fear suffering or being a burden to my child. But I don’t fear death. I’ve had far too many spiritual experiences to ever think that this world is all there is, and so I’m infinitely curious. I’ve never doubted an afterlife. That’s the long game. It is this limited reality that is surreal, and therein lies the miracle.

How do YOU remind yourself to BE? Because there ain’t no other way – you’re on the right track, baby…

“My Mama told me when I was young – we are all born superstars…” – Lady Gaga

Feb2

Start here you.

Posted on by
Standard

“Start with the art,” Sophie Ashby tells us. Here is yet another example of the biophilic design elements we saw in the last post, but arranged in a different way. You can almost imagine these two London townhouses next door to each other. Here we see the impact color can make. Notice how this makes you feel. Both homes are owned by artists and used as their personal laboratories. Your home is your creative laboratory.

Nothing is more personal than art. If you choose art that truly evokes emotion, that you are strangely and inexplicably drawn to, you have made a great start. Never mind whether or not it matches anything else. It doesn’t matter if you invested last months salary or spray painted cardboard in the garage. If it’s huge or small. What does matter is that you love it. Not anyone else – YOU.

Jan31

“nature has always crept in…”

Posted on by
Standard

This is quite a different take on the theme of biophilic design. It certainly exemplifies home as sanctuary for these creative individuals. I confess that when I first began to investigate this design approach, I feared being overtaken by philodendrons hanging in macrame – which made me itch. I did not expect thoughtful elegance on this scale. According to the dictionary, biophilic design is meant to “foster a deeper connection between humans and nature.”

Just last night I came across the study of BIPHASTIC sleep. Apparently until the industrial revolution and shift work in factories, humans slept more like the rest of the mammals on earth – in shorter segmented sleep patterns. It is being studied again with the aging of the population. Retirees are finding themselves reverting to a natural rhythm with sleep that means falling asleep early after dark, sleeping for a few hours and then being awake for hours before returning to bed for another short sleep early morning. I’ve got this! Again, validating to discover that something that has felt natural to me is being recognized as being healthy. Perhaps nature had it right all along.

And here’s the connection in my little mind between this interior cabinet of curiosities and biphastic sleep – healthy design decisions will always incorporate healthy living habits. I would probably like being up during the night here, but I don’t want to face the concrete kitchen before morning coffee. I love many of the natural elements here, and I watch imagining the walls glow a golden amber for me. I’d love to hear your take on this.

Jan29

Good Art Won’t Match Your Sofa

Posted on by
Standard

It is the dead of winter here at the 45th parallel. I live in a shoebox and God forgot to take the lid off. The skies are flat grey for weeks, sometimes months on end. Daylight struggles to become full; it’s dusk all day. It’s grey on grey on grey. Did you know that along the western shore of Michigan’s lower peninsula we have fewer sunny days than anywhere else in the country? Yep, less sun than Alaska. I did the research.

So this next few weeks we are going to explore the interior styles called Dopamine decor and Biospheric design. You gotta love it when media puts a name to some practice you’ve done all your life. As Frasier Crane so eloquently said, “It’s not that complicated – CATCH UP!”

Dopamine decor is just like it sounds – design that lifts the spirit! And biospheric is a fancy word for nature, for blurring the visual lines between outside and in. That said, I’m not going to paint everything grey…in come the dopamine elements.

Here British designer Sophie Robinson illustrates another of my personal design “rules” – decorate around your favorite artwork – not the other way around.

“Color is my daylong obsession, joy, and torment.” – Claude Monet

Jan24

Interiors Are Hilarious, like me…

Posted on by
Standard

Can interiors be humorous? Haaahaha….of course they can. Have you ever paid personality fees? I believe in them. Even today in my own home, I refuse to think in terms of resale value.

I’ve heard it said that it’s never too late to have a happy childhood. I’d like to propose a deeper perspective: that to have a meaningful childhood you must grow up first, re-parent yourself, and then gift yourself the childhood you have always wanted. The real childhood you wanted, the one with all the love and acceptance. It’s work. It’s grief work. First you have to grieve the life you haven’t lived, the life you thought you wanted. You have to get to where you can earnestly be grateful for the life you have.

As an adolescent I painted murals on my bedroom walls. One day as I was painting a tree up the wall and out onto the ceiling, my Mom walked in. She did a double take and asked, “what are you doing?” and I looked at her perplexed. Was this a trick question?! “I’m…uh…painting a mural.” “Oh. Okay.” She set down my folded laundry and walked back out.

In many ways my childhood was a dream. We lived in a big old house on the Detroit River. We had cool cars and a built-in swimming pool and boats docked at the end of the yard. We had dogs and cats and rabbits and even a horse among our menagerie of pets. We had a sugar bowl of cocaine in the kitchen cupboard. We had Taco Tuesdays because there were often no parents around, so we took cash out of the drawer to feed ourselves. We had everything you could ever wish for as a child, and much you wouldn’t.

I’m an old woman now, and I wouldn’t change any of it. Early in life I knew the world would never make any sense, and I knew that it wasn’t my fault. I learned to trust my intuition. I learned to be content alone; I taught myself to draw. I became a voracious reader. I learned to think fast on my feet. I learned to love art. I learned the value of anger – it can get you to your grief, where all the grist is found.

“A happy childhood is the worst possible preparation for life.” Kinky Friedman

Jan22

Smart Is Smart

Posted on by
Standard

She’s considered a Louisiana Legend. Stunning is the word here. It seemed only fitting after we visited my real imaginary friend Penny Morrison the other day that we would go to Rebecca Vizard’s home next on our tour. We’re back on this side of the pond now, deep in the Louisiana delta a few hours drive north of New Orleans.

Like Penny, Rebecca is a textile designer with a unique speciality, and you can easily imagine her as your other best friend. Don’t be fooled by any of these delightful personalities I might showcase – they work hard. They have put in long hours for decades to get to where they seem so relaxed. My limited experience in design taught me that it looks glamorous to the untrained eye, but it is grueling work, physically and mentally.

This is a generous invitation into a private world, and in another video she gives a tour of her small town, showcasing the artists and small business owners. Both of her hands and arms are bandaged in that video, and she explains that her little rescue beagle, Lulu, was attacked by another dog that morning and she had to intervene. They both ended up with stitches, and her attitude is, “these things happen.”

I recently heard a spiritual coach asked who she thought would most easily make the transition from 3rd to 5th dimensional thought, and she quickly answered, “interior designers; they get it.” As within, so without isn’t so much a spiritual mantra as a daily practice. If a designer has stuck with their art long enough to be successful, they are a master problem solver. They tend to take challenges in stride. They are some of the biggest philanthropists and animal advocates in the country, but we rarely hear of that work. Accustomed to moving up and down ladders, they are adept with a nail gun and emotional support, they regularly take risks and use their own living spaces as laboratories. Life is for learning, and they are infinitely curious. I admire Rebecca immensely.

This is a long video, so pour yourself a cuppa and get comfy. It offers us a treasure trove of design tips, so I’ll point out a few. But please let me know what you find that I might have missed. “Oh, boy, this is gonna be fun!”

Here are a few ideas I’ve gleaned from this video: 1) You are never finished. As home is an extension of life, it’s a process. 2) Separate your work from your living space if possible. 3) Blur the transition from outdoors to indoors. Let the vines in. 4) You’ll hear this a lot from me: open concept is an abomination of the human spirit. Separate your spaces by function. 5) Forgive the mistakes and begin again. A creative life incorporates the happy accidents. 6) Ignore the trends. Do what works for you. 7) Keep painting it until you love it. 8) You will spend a good part of your life at the kitchen sink. Make sure it works well for your needs. 9) Everything is art; treat it as such. 10) Be grateful. Count your blessings every day…and so, use the good stuff. Let the pets on the furniture. 11) “A hat basket is highly recommended.” Make your own chandeliers. Narnia your bathroom door. Make your interior world magical. 12) And for the love of God – make it PERSONAL.

“NOTHING IS INTERESTING UNLESS IT IS PERSONAL.” – Billy Baldwin

Jan21

“We’ve lost our relationship with unpredictability.”

Posted on by
Standard

We all seem to be struggling to live with our chronic anxiety. I posit that it has been systematically introduced into our culture by design, quite purposefully. Individuals who are able to think for themselves are hard sells. There is nothing natural about order; it invites anxiety. To accept that chaos is natural is revolutionary thinking. The way to overcome our addictions, including to the neurosis of our culture, is to learn to embrace the mystery. If you are going to practice getting through “one day at a time,” let it be one day of being uncomfortable with chaos. Be a revolutionary.

“In my defenselessness my safety lies.” – ACIM