Janice Mason Steeves

Safe Home  42x42" oil/cold wax on panel © 2012 Janice Mason Steeves I am back in the land of the healed!  My arm is out of the cast, my right foot is almost better-whatever was wrong with it, no one still knows-and my eye is totally better.  Hallelujah.  It's been quite a winter.  I haven't been back into the studio yet.  The wrist is so weak and vulnerable still.  But soon.  After a bit of physiotherapy. Meanwhile, I am still getting lots of prep work done for my classes and having interesting email conversations with other artists. Today I received an email from an artist friend in Winnipeg who asked a group of us, "What effect does narrative have on an image?"  He wondered about the value or importance of text to support an image, such as an artist's statement or even a title.    I wrote back to say that  I have found that writing adds another dimension to my work.  My painting is totally intuitive ...

Stormy Seas   50x40"   oil/cold wax on panel © Janice Mason Steeves 2012 I've had to cancel my show in Vancouver that was scheduled to open on April 28th.  Not only is my arm still too painful to use it even in a supporting role, but I seem to have also developed some other ailments, including a so-far undiagnosed painful and swollen foot.  And as well, an infected eye.  I almost laughed when the eye became infected,  What more could go wrong?  A friend wrote to say that we're like old cars, you just get the door replaced and the bumper falls off! One hilarious thing happened last week.  I was taking a short walk with my daughter and my puppy when a couple of  large Golden Retrievers ran up to us.  Both dogs promptly sat at my feet, looking up expectantly at my broken arm, and panting.  I have developed this odd way of holding my arm to keep it elevated, where I bend it at the elbow, fingers facing forward and sort of flopp...

Two weeks ago I had a fall on a small patch of ice in my driveway and badly broke my left wrist.  I'm LEFT-HANDED! I can't begin to tell you how upset and frustrated I was to learn that I could not/should not paint for perhaps two months. I have shows coming up, and workshops to teach.   It changes my world.  At least temporarily.  Not only is the break still painful, but there is the scare of surgery hanging over my head.  The orthopaedic surgeon told me on Friday that he still has to see how it's healing in another two weeks.  If it's healing well, he says, I should be out of the woods.  Otherwise.... I am feeling very sorry for myself. I'm frustrated that I can't paint and that I can't even  drive.  I live in the country.  I can't walk to a store or even catch a bus or get a cab. Someone once said that there is a lesson in everything.  Although I would still like to get my hands on the person who said that...

This is Hue.  He's 4 months old now.  He looks like such an angel here.  We've been to two obedience classes. On Day One, the trainer gave us a few doggie obedience tips. Seems to me these could also be applied to art and to life. Don't take it personally :  I ask him to sit and he does for a second.  Then I gently pull his leash up and push his bum down to sit again.  And I do this again.  And I do it again and again. He puts his front two feet onto the table by the back door.  I push him off.  He does it again and again and again as he waits for me to put on my coat to go outside.  And again.  As I put on my coat, he tries to bite the bottom edge of the jacket.  I take my outdoor shoes out of the closet, put them on the floor and he quickly grabs one and runs away with it.  I call him back.  He comes.  I take the shoes away and put them on one at a time. I bend over to put his leash on.  He bites...

Newgrange  48x42" oil/cold wax on panel ©2011 Janice Mason Steeves “ It is not enough if you are busy. The question is, ‘what are you busy about?’ ” ~Henry David Thoreau How can one person do it all?  I have taken classes on getting organized.  I set schedules and goals.  I have no TV.  But I feel that I'm constantly playing catch-up in my life: finding enough studio time, trying to catch-up on my art inventory, organizing my art classes, writing grant proposals, meeting art exhibition deadlines, donating to art auctions, writing blog posts, aiming to keep up on facebook, as well as walking my puppy, exercising, housecleaning and family life.  And occasionally meditating.  I was brought abruptly to my senses last night though when a dear old friend called to chat. We talk now and again but not regularly.  We've known each other since our now grown children were in Grade One. In the spring, she told me she was having very serious ...

Influence of Hue 40 x 40" oil/cold wax on panel ©2011 Janice Mason Steeves Each time I begin a painting, I wonder where it will go.  I begin intuitively,  holding a thought in my mind of what I'd like to express. My   paintings are abstract investigations of landscape, symbols, memory and process.  I know artists who are fully confident that even if they can't see what the finished painting will look like, trust that the process will resolve itself and become a painting.  I can't say that I am so confident.  When I step into the studio each day, I feel to some extent that I'm stepping into the abyss. This is the excitement of abstract painting.  I have no idea where the work will go or how I will get there or if it will resolve itself.   And yet they do, they always eventually do. I love that razor's edge though, between safety and the abyss.  I think it keeps the work honest.  There is some sense of terror there! ...

Thoughts of Stones #5   ©Janice Mason Steeves 2011    Yesterday I went with my friend Jane Lind to see the award-winning play, Red , at the Bluma Appel Theatre  in Toronto.  What an experience! Director Kim Collier describes  Red , as 'a play about faith versus doubt-in the artistic process, in ourselves, in our work, and in our place in the world.  I think we all are confronted with the sturggles that faced Mark Rothko: what does my life's work add up to?  How will I be remembered?  Have I been true to myself? These are all questions that eventually demand an answer from us."  Red is set in Rothko's studio in 1958 in New York City where he was working on his mural commission for the Four Season's Hotel.  The play documents a fictionalized account of Rothko's conversations with his assistant, Ken.  We get a look into Rothko's intense artistic vision- to create art that expressed archetypal human emotions and commu...