About the End of the Year

This is the time of the year that we should take stock isn't it? Look back and see what we've done this year. What we've accomplished. Are the art sales up? Or down? What are we doing right? Or wrong?

More than this, I try to look back and see if my work has changed and grown. And if I have. I look back to see what I've learned and if it was what I thought I was going to learn.

I always try to write New Year's Resolutions. Some years I create detailed sections like they tell you in the books on Success: Physical, Emotional, Spiritual, Artistic, Financial. I divide them down into bite-sized pieces that would be almost impossible not to accomplish. It takes a lot of time and thought. I carefully file this list in my pink filing cabinet. By the end of January, I can't remember which section I've filed it under and in fact, I've forgotten what any of those bite-sized bits were. It's not until Dec. 31st that I go hunting for that list.

Mostly I am concerned with spiritual and artistic growth. I suppose that the two go together. They do for me.

My work grew in unanticipated ways this year as I decided to explore the idea of Silence. My September exhibition at Granville Fine Art in Vancouver was called Speaking of Silence. This series is my response to a chaotic world-excessive information, constant environmental noise, bombardment with electronic media, that sort of thing. Silence, meditation, contemplation are where I am focusing. These have always been important in my life. This year, they have grown more important.

Recently, The Menil Collection in Houston, on whose campus the Rothko Chapel is located, created an exhibition called Silence. Their website says: "Silence is a powerful force. It can produce profound emotions or conjure startling sensory experiences, and it seems inextricably linked to the passage of time. A prerequisite for contemplative thought, silence has become a scarce commodity in today’s media-saturated world. The exhibition and catalogue project Silence, considers this important and little-examined subject in modern and contemporary art."

In the fall I spent three weeks at the Cill Rialaig artist residency in Ireland-a quiet, remote location. I loved my cottage with its stunning ocean views and the companionship of my artist friend, Rebecca Crowell. I had trouble though quietening my busy mind. After the residency, I went on to Scotland where I had a wonderful week visiting cousins that I don't see enough of. The trip ended with a pilgrimage-a Christian one this time- to Iona, a small island off the west coast of Scotland, to the Abbey that was founded by St. Columba who brought Celtic Christianity to Scotland in 500AD. It was the perfect ending for my journey. The program at Iona Abbey was called Quiet Week. Led by Stephen Wright, the focus was on the Contemplative path. How appropriate. Silence and Contemplation. Something changed in me. I have no words for the change.

Robert Macfarlane, in his forward to the anthology, A Wilder Vein, suggested that "cognition is site-specific, or motion-sensitive: that we think differently in different landscapes. And therefore, more radically, that certain thoughts might be possible only in certain places, such that when we lose those places, we are losing kinds of imagination as well."

I love the idea that certain thoughts might be possible only in certain places. I prefer though to think that we can bundle up those new thoughts and pack at least some of them home to enrich and deepen the thoughts we have in our own landscapes.

I look forward to 2013 and allowing the time for contemplation and silence.

Liminal Time

The word liminal comes from the Latin, limen meaning threshold. an in-between place, a place of transition, a time of waiting and not knowing. Dawn and dusk are considered liminal places. Crepuscular animals, like foxes and coyotes are most active at this time of day, a time that is considered a magical time in Celtic spirituality and to Indigenous people which is perhaps the origin of their designation as tricksters. As I write this, the northern hemisphere has just passed the vernal equinox, where day and night are of equal length.We are in a liminal space between winter and spring right now, unsure if we will have one more storm or snowfall before spring finally settles in. We're also in a liminal place as we live through this pandemic with the anxiety and discomfort of not knowing. A time of great transition for the entire world, wondering what we've learned from this and what lessons we'll carry forward. Author and Fr...

Lessons that Stone Walls Teach

Dry stone wall in the Burren, Co. Clare, Ireland I've just returned from teaching a Workshop in Wild Places class in the Burren in County Clare, Ireland. Writing this post, I'm reminded of another post I wrote after visiting Inishmaan, the middle of the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland several years ago. Stone walls crisscrossed the island in tight webs like a fisherman's net. I wrote then that the web of stone walls made me think of the idea of putting limitations on our painting as a way of exploring more deeply and how walls give limits against the limitless. You can read that article here. As our group hiked in the Burren with our guide, Marie McGauran we learned that the walls are stronger because of the holes in them. The wind can pass through. The oldest stone walls, estimated to be 3500 years old are at Skara Brae, a Neolithic site in Orkney. Most walls were built in the 18th and 19th century, marking areas of private ownership and resultin...

Am I Too Old to Change? Embracing Life

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels I'm in the process, at last, of working on the book that came to me in a dream seven years ago. It has circled my head all these years, demanding I get at it. It's called: We're Not Done Yet: Coming to Art Later in Life . It has actually hung in the air a couple of feet behind my head, attached by a string like a helium balloon, like a cartoon cloud, waiting for me to get to it. Some of you will know of it because I posted a request on Facebook in 2019 asking for artists who have come to art later in life to reply to me if they'd like to answer a questionnaire. I received 168 responses plus earlier interviews I did before the put out the questionnaire. There was some overlap, and some didn't respond after they'd offered to. All in all, I received 128 responses. By a huge majority it was women who responded to my questionnaire. By the time we get into our 60's we bring a rich life experience to our work: m...

Janice Mason Steeves

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