WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

This episode begins and ends with friendship and gratitude. Art and life evolve when we release our expectations and trust in the round about ways the world works.
What is meant to be is always meant to be.
The meditation in this episode is 10 minutes long. Find it at 9:18 in the recording only
This meditation was truly about presence, about getting out of my own way and the need to take editorial control over what I share. In it you’ll find a simple invitation to join me on a late summer beach walk, to go with the flow of what the universe offers.

Unusually I recorded this one live. I hope you’ll listen in for the self care break.

“THE KELLY GANG: RESONANCE II”, Acrylic on Panel, 48’’ x 48” , 2021

With the pandemic getting closer and closer to being in our rear view mirrors our family have plans to visit overseas cousins and grandparents after a very long absence.  Making travel plans has put me in mind of the connections I have made to others, those we inherit and others we are drawn to as our journeys unfold. My creative practice and especially colour have led me to cross paths with many: friends who have become clients and clients who have become friends.

I thought it might be nice to share a story about one of these connections that is a funny illustration of the convoluted route our common paths can sometimes travel. I have a pair of clients who have purchased multiple paintings over the past number of years. We actually first met this couple on a beach in Huatulco, Mexico. I know, right? I’m an ex pat Australian, a painter and a Canadian who meets clients while on holiday in Mexico. Forest Gump was right. “Life is like a box of chocolates, and we never know what we are going to get.

These are the first layers on the surface. They are a combination of the white gesso that I inscribe my intention with. I then add a colour or two to the base coat so that the base colour can show through to the surface instead of the white of the gesso as the painting progresses. The process is fast and fun.

Where do you meet new clients?

We had arrived in Huatulco for a winter break with friends and set off to discover the beach on our first day in paradise. It was a lovely morning. We walked the sandy arc of sand down from a row of Palapas at the back of the beach where some early risers had already set up camp for the day. It was beautiful, clear sunny and breezy with no snow, no boots or coats and temperatures on the positive side of 30 degrees. When we returned to our spot after brunch I opened my book to read and my bookmark fell onto the sand and blew down to where another couple were sitting. I had made bookmarks from details of some of my paintings the previous year and paired them with phrases I had written in my meditative practice when I first began to explore the process. The bookmarks acted like an elongated business card and had been popular with book clubs and as stocking stuffers the previous Christmas. Most people picked the image they liked and received the quote on the back that they required. It’s funny how that works.

The composition takes it cues from original intentions as well as the direction and emphasis of marks made in the under layers. Its all about building and often without scaffolding

The business card comes in many forms. Make an impression with yours.

Anyhow my now client picked up the bookmark then in the sand and walked over to us in disbelief. We both laughed when we realised how small a world we live in. It turned out this fellow Canadian traveller had received one of my bookmarks from a neighbour on my street who was part of her Winnipeg book club. She had intended to call me she had said but apparently the universe thought she was dawdling in reaching out and so brought us together in its own way. This couple became friends during our week in paradise and later made a purchase of art to add to their world class ceramics collection and large assortment of original Canadian paintings. I felt privileged to be included in their collection. Now several paintings later with barely wall space to support another purchase my client had introduced my work to old friends of hers who were moving to the city and wanted some local colour to flavour their new chapter and their new home.

Huatulco, Mexico’s best kept secreted my favourite winter get away.

I loved her enthusiasm. I want all my clients to be as enthusiastic. It can be contagious and is the reason I have been able to maintain a studio practice for more than 20 years. Memories of her word of mouth recommendation can also revive my own enthusiasm on days when self-doubt comes knocking on the studio door.

These two paintings developed side by side not as a diptych but as cousins on the paint wall. Relatable but not tied at the hip for a lifetime.

The friends of my clients had a space that looked out onto a little forest on public property behind their shallow back yard. They also had a thing for fall colours so that intention along with the size was established as a direction for this pair of paintings. The colour story on one panel featured some warm pinky corals and reds that I found interesting. These colours led the composition down an earthier and warmer path than the painting that turned into “Blue Gums”. Side note if you haven’t seen my work in person before colour is an identifying trait. There can be a lot going on and the colours can be, well intense. This painting was no exception.  It grew to be busy, textured and colourful and translated the feeling and energy of autumn.

Both paintings I painted for this project shared a connection to a wooded theme and began at the same time on the painting wall. These paintings were the same shape and size and featured exaggeratedly leggy tree forms but that’s where the similarities ended.  I allowed “Blue Gums” to bloom first. I loved the simplicity of this painting and tried to be disciplined in trying to maintain that simplicity. When I showed the progress I was making on the pair to the commissioning client, I was kind of relieved they thought this painting to be too blue for their tastes so I put it aside and focused on the broader colour story of the second panel.

“THE KELLY GANG” upside down. The painting process is a process. Any composition becomes a visual equation to be solved. Solving it can sometimes turn a painting on its head. A change of perspective is helpful in getting the left brain out of the way so the right brain can work its magic.

Having multiple projects on the go, beyond being fun, allows me to rest one or other composition when something gets a little complex or I need a bit more time to percolate my thoughts. I don’t always know what next steps to take and I don’t always stop to pause. Sometimes not doing anything more is the right answer but I don’t always listen to that thought either. For that reason it’s good to have a blank panel in the wings in case I need to pause and to paint. Putting a painting out of sight like I did with Blue Gums can prevent me from diving in to my over painting tendencies.

Taking a screen shot and reducing a developing composition in colour to its tonal values is another game I often play on the road to resolution

When I felt the second square was close to being complete I invited my new commissioning clients to the studio to gauge their reactions. I’d added a third composition to the mix, well, just because I love to paint and happened to have two panels needing to rest. When a composition is close to being finished every mark has a bigger impact so if I am in the zone I need a new surface to play with and luckily there was a canvas waiting for my attention.

Life lived in the details. I have a fascination with compositions within compositions

The marks tend to separate into independent structures when we get up close to them

 When it came time for the big reveal…

My current studio is tiny so I had set up the two options in a well-lit area of my studio building. It turned out the new clients loved the big, warm square, as well as the third option I had added into the mix. Amazingly when we returned to the studio another painting piqued their interest so we added a third painting into the mix to audition in their space. Not every car can accommodate artwork this size so I packaged up all three options and delivered them for a trial.

I love the details. Sometimes it’s hard to describe why a small mark can leave such a large impact. It is those elusive marks I am always seeking.

When you know you know and the clients soon ruled out the rectangular option. They opted to spend a weekend contemplating the other two paintings. I like to be clear there is no obligation to take any of the options as its important to me that a purchase is made because it resonates on a personal level and not because of any perceived obligation. It turned out the spontaneous choice to include a totally different piece with a poppy theme had been the right one. This was the painting that had spoken to them over the weekend and though very different from what they thought they had wanted  it looked great in their space and they both loved it.

This little detail might make for a lovely Mandart Pillow down the road?

The universe works in mysterious ways so I should not have been surprised to get a call from my original client the following day asking me which painting her friends had chosen. I love that enthusiasm and smiled knowing they had been dinner guests over the weekend while the decision making process was in full swing. When I told her which painting their had adopted she replied with a relieved “Oh Thank Goodness” followed by “I need it”, which also made me laugh.

In case you were wondering where all the recording magic happens I thought I might be really REAL for you and show you an example of a recording session. In this instance i was at the cottage where I had fortified myself with soft sound absorbing materials; quilts, foam mattresses and pillows and more quilts draped over a quilt rack in the acoustically sound bathroom. That’s my laptop on my knee and my iPhone was taking the picture. Sophisticated? Nope. Resourceful? Yes.

I was appreciative of the compliment but also aware of the extent of her creative collection so really thought she was joking around. When I later returned to my original client’s home with the 4 foot panel in the back of my car I saw she had rehung her collection and reserved a living room wall for this new addition. It was like this painting had been made for her space and I was reminded once more that the universe always has a plan. It may not have been the one that was expecting ted but it had brought fresh new colour into both households with enthusiasm and I was grateful for all of them.

This is the view to the south along Ponemah Beach on the shores of Lake Winnipeg where i walked and recorded the meditation for this episode. It was a lovely day for a stroll that afforded a true moment of presence.

It seems we have reached the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I really appreciate you spending some of your valuable time with me. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

Join me on the recording only for the meditation which today is a little walk along our local summertime beach. Listening in is as simple as pressing the arrow in the player at the top of this blog to go to the episode on my website or press the button below to head to the episode on apple podcasts.

The meditation this episode is 10 minutes of self care. It begins at 9:18 in the recording.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. Your support would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks for joining me. Hope to see you next Tuesday.

All best,

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

Get your flow flowing this episode as we take in a transitioning season and journey down a new visual path where colour theory is just a theory.
The meditation that follows at 8:37 in the recording is one of my recent favourites and a great reminder to accept where we are in the present moment.

It adopts the mantra:
“It is, I am, we are…” to remind us our only constant is change. This is an opportunity to join me in a brief 14 minutes of self care . If you have been skipping out on the meditation practice this is one you won’t want to miss.

“GOING WITH THE FLOW” or “THE HUNDRED ACRE WOOD” acrylic on Canvas 36’ x 48” , 2022

 I hope all is well where you are and the weather is not wreaking too much havoc. I can tell you when I was considering this episode where I am, in the center of Canada, we were transitioning maybe a little bit too quickly from late summer into fall.

I'm a morning swimmer. I swim at the indoor pool at the Y and on my way home after the very first heavy frost, I could see the soccer field next to the Y blanketed white in the still morning air, and that's never a good sign. Miraculously, it was sunny and clear and there was not a breath of wind. As I drove into my driveway, the neighbor's yellow-leaved boulevard tree was dripping leaves to the ground. A growing mound of leaves was quickly forming into a play-ready pile at its base.

In my 30 years in Canada, I have only witnessed this phenomenon twice. It must have been the exact temperature that signaled this particular species of tree to let go and go with the flow of the transitioning new season. I want to go back to the ideas of release and acceptance in the meditation in a few minutes. But for now, I'd like to introduce you to a painting called both “Flow” and “The Hundred Acre Wood”. Sometimes I can't decide, so this one has two names and her eventual owner can make their own decision about a name.

These are the first layers on the surface. They are a combination of the white gesso that I inscribe my intention with. I then add a colour or two to the base coat so that the base colour shows through to the surface instead of the white of the gesso as the painting progresses. The process is fast and fun.

I didn't paint this painting in the fall, so it wasn't actually intended to be representative of a particular time or place, but its linear nature suggests, depending on your perspective, of course, trees in the process of transformation. And since this new season is already underway and reminding me our only constant is change, it seemed appropriate.

I painted this painting in the first half of 2022. I'd previously been working on a commission that turned into A Celebration of the Poppy, two paintings called “Tina's Garden: A Celebration” and “Celebration Refreshed”. (Read or listen to their story in Season 2 Episode 7)

Though you might think every choice is intentional in a studio practice, sometimes choices are made because there was a blank canvas within arm's reach.

It so happened that this canvas was the same size as the pair I had been working on at 36” by 48”. That was a bonus find in the studio because keeping to the same size and shape can help with the rhythm of my particular creative choices on the paint wall. It literally keeps things flowing.

Hanging a fresh canvas on the paint wall is always fun. I love to paint, as you know, and always have more than one project on the go .

Adding an intention to a surface as I prepare it for painting with gesso is a simple and spontaneous act. In this example the intention is clear, though general. It is quickly absorbed into the very under layers of the substrate. This intention became the general undertone of the later “Sweet Suite Series” of small 11” x 14” panels.

This canvas was inscribed with the intention flow and the simple word, CHI, using the gesso of the initial foundation layer. The word is quickly absorbed in the process of covering the surface to make it less porous and more accepting of the paint. So, I try to add the same word on the back in pencils so I can remember where the painting began when it was complete. I am not always successful at this detail.

Adding the word to the surface is intentional, but it's kind of a random thought that just feels right at that specific moment. There are no lists of inspiring words that I methodically work through. It's more reflexive and a bit more like using an affirmation to start the day. And like an affirmation, it is not carved in stone, but it is a positive sentiment to take notice of or reflect on during the course of the day, or in this case, as I work on that particular painting.

Here is a closer view of the linear marks that began to describe a transitioning forest in the mid ground

 I try to keep myself mindful of the intention as the composition develops by coming back to that initial thought with each subsequent session of painting. While painting this project, I was also mindful the previous pier had featured poppies and hits of red. So, in this new painting, I was intentional in limiting the color palette by omitting reds and focusing more on line than on shape.

Each subject will generally suggest a direction under painting is always a thing for me, regardless of the subject. And in this case, I underpainted in a clear washy lemon that shows through more heavily built up areas and opens up visual space in the background, or what is perceived as a background. The foreground features some orangey pinks that establish a kind of pathway in the foreground. I wanted the subject to be an invitation of sorts, to offer the view with some depth and an opportunity to visually expand the visual space within the composition.

Colour is everywhere in the transitioning landscape. Ours is like clockwork and flows too quickly through my favourite seasons. Beware the poison ivy! It is one of the first plants to signal fall is in the air. The darker red three leaves shown here you should definitely leave be.

As this painting evolved into a dense forest, the lemon yellow kept it from feeling heavy and enclosed while still creating a visual pathway to invite the viewer to engage with the transitioning trees. I can be guilty of flattening my paintings. I like to play with compliments, colors on the opposite side of the color wheel, and sometimes that can invert the use of color our brain typically reads as coming forward and receding into the background. Color theory has some rules that I tend to play with, but not rigidly adhere to.

Painting is a process after all, and we each play where we play. For me, it has never really been within the lines and that is perfectly okay. Tweaking the features of color theory can often be what gives a composition energy. Where two colors meet can be a harmonious balance, or a competitive reaction as the eye tries to balance out the visual weight of a particular color on the surface in comparison to its neighbor.

I’ll admit I am too self conscious to paint in front of anyone or to dive in to a facebook live. For now this is me at work in the early layers

So, are the trees in this painting losing leaves at the end of the season or are they just bursting into color after the winter? I'm not sure, and I'm not sure it really matters. As the viewer, you get to make those choices, and your choices will be dependent on your experience. I love that about art. There are no right answers and everything is open to interpretation, but we connect through our common interests, focus, or experiences.

Story is another opportunity to connect. My experiences in this podcast might be the segue that inspires you to connect with your own stories or experiences. The artist will often leave clues in a painting and that can be intentional or not. Sometimes the story flows with the process. The narrative might be intentional, or it might not even exist. In The Hundred Acre Wood, I used a lot of limey greens, which might suggest new growth in the spring, but I also included fuchsia and deep purples that are more suggestive of an end of season.

Life lived in the details. I have a fascination with compositions within compositions

The marks tend to separate into independent structures when we get up close to them

 I love the fluidity of interpretation and the fact that a simple mark on a surface can take us in so many different directions As the maker, I get to sketch in the potentials with whatever media I'm working with. Then you as the viewer get to complete the narrative from your perspective, and we all win when we connect to something larger than ourselves. I hope you'll check out the images on the blog to make your own determination. I really like the simplicity of this painting. The marks are loose and colorful, and the general subject feels fresh and clear, like the new beginning it was for me on that paint wall at the time.

I love the details. Sometimes it’s hard to describe why a small mark can leave such a large impact. It is those elusive marks I am always seeking.

I called this painting flow in recognition of its original intention, but I also called it The Hundred Acre Wood at a friend's suggestion. Her experience takes her to the playful side of story and illustration, to her connection to bears, and of course, one of the most beloved. I can get a little serious and too involved in my head, so I loved the reminder of the willingness to play, and to be playful.

As a soul or solo practitioner, I am always grateful for my friends and their impressions. It makes me feel like I have colleagues and collegial interactions and suggestions are always welcomed.

Lately I have taken to making story labels on instagram and taking a screen shot to help me keep track of my work. For now it’s working but I am definitely open to discovering a more efficient process.

As of press time for this episode this painting was still available.

Getting ready for the meditation…

Change is our only constant. Change is what we can expect. It is the one thing we can be assured of. Have you ever found yourself leaving an event, packing up at the end of a holiday, or been heading home after a particularly inspiring gathering, and thinking to yourself, I can't wait to get together for a repeat performance next week, next month, next year? The same players might be present, the same landscape might be explored, but each subsequent event or annual retreat will have its own unique set of circumstances, its own stories that become the narrative of new memories.

We might like or hope for the world to stay the same, pine for it to do so even, and hope that it returns to a former status quo, a time before X or Y occurred, before things changed. But in reality, the sun rises and sets, the moon follows in a constant cycle where the only constant is change.

It’s true i am a doer. The meditations are all about trying to BE more. We’ll get to doing more of that in the meditation on the recording but first I wanted to show you my very sophisticated seasonal photography wall. Clearly I need a new photographer :) so I can avoid schlepping paintings to the side yard fence in bright shade.

I sometimes have trouble accepting this. Go figure. I'm a doer. I always have a helping hand at the ready to share with you. My hand is always up to help you solve your problem or raised in the air to answer your question. Surely there must be something we can do. What if we did this or tried that? But despite our best intentions, all of these efforts are futile.

When we can't say or do anything to help or to alter circumstances, what can we do? The only thing we can do is to accept where we are right now. We can, as a wise friend once pointed out to me, simply be. We can be present with and for each other. It is, I am. We are. Right here. Right now.

And that is the only given within the constancy of change.

This is the neighbours tree that literally dripped its leaves gently yet rapidly into a quick and growing pile at its base while i stood mesmerized watching for at least 10 minutes.

It seems we have reached the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I really appreciate you spending some of your valuable time with me. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

Given that the constant in this world is change I thought it would be nice to spend a little time being present together in the meditation.

Join me on the recording only. Press the arrow in the player at the top of this blog or the button below.

The meditation this episode is 14 minutes of self care. It begins at 8:37 in the recording.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode on apple or anywhere you get your podcasts.

Thanks for joining me. Hope to see you next Tuesday.

All best,

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

This episode shares stories of community and creativity and how the two came together to create The Healing Blanket Project, one thoughtful and colourful stitch at a time.

The story begins with the Healing Blanket post pandemic as she fledges her nest and moves into Ronald MacDonald’s new house in Winnipeg.

Listen in on the podcast or read up on the blog to discover what happens when a delicate, white tulip grows 2 meters tall and what supportive magic happens at the crossroads where action and presence meet.

The meditation continues the healing theme. Listen in for 11 minutes of self care where we invite softness and ease in on the breath. Stay tuned as we are reminded, to pause, to accept the gift of stillness and to be open to receiving all the support the universe offers, wherever we are.
Find the meditation at 15:30 in the recording.

The Healing Blanket gets started in the Fall of 2015 at my Studio at the corner of Adelaide and McDermot in Winnipeg’s Historic Exchange District. That’s me making some of the very first stitches.

Photo credit : Simeon Rusnak, 2015

THE NEW/OLD FASHIONED QUILTING BEE with Amanda Onchulenko

 The Healing Blanket Project has been installed on the stairwell overlooking the play structure at the new Ronald MacDonald House in Winnipeg. It’s been 7 years in the making. I couldn’t have foreseen a more fitting home for it when we began. I am so grateful it has found its way to this public space.

I have to admit it has taken me some time to collate the elements of this community art project in a written form for public consumption. It might be the responsibility I feel in the sharing that coincides with the fear I might miss something important, or that somehow my words won’t adequately convey my gratitude for all whose time energy and intentions are represented. I hope you’ll read on to learn of its story.

Participants were invited to add a stitch in time in hour of someone they love or have loved.

The idea for The Healing Blanket Project evolved out of a desire to support some friends going through difficult circumstances. Its inception coincided with the Arts and Cultural Days events when the program first began in Winnipeg in 2015. As a practicing artist I am aware that my creative signature is everywhere. Not everyone has an opportunity to leave a physical creative mark, however simple, in the physical world. For this reason I decided I wanted to offer and facilitate such a space for others.

 I found inspiration in family and friends to combine the concept of a traditional Quilting Bee with my painting practice to initiate a community art quilting project.

The project featured a version of one of my paintings, but this was not to be my quilt. It would belong to all who participated in its construction and to those who would eventually benefit from its intention. Guests were invited into my studio practice, to participate in the creative process with the simple invitation to leave a physical stitch in time, with, or in honour of someone they currently love or had once loved.

WAVE weekends in June and September often featured the Healing Blanket. The event even brought movies stars to The Interlake to participate. Brenda Gorlick and Alvina August were cast in the Hallmark movie “Love and Design”, and added some of both to the quilt top in the summer of 2018.

THE HEALING BLANKET had lots of room for contributor’s stitches during the 7 years the project was installed at my studio during exhibitions and events. There was no expectation or tutorial beyond the invitation to participate. I assisted with the threading of needles or getting someone started on occasion. All participants worked independently after the request to be intentionally present with their friend, partner, family member or fellow contributor. The invitation allowed them to engage with their thoughts and the creative process in the present moment.

A view of visitors at work on the Healing Blanket through the garden at Ponemah. The weather was not always so kind.

SPONSORSHIP AND SUPPORT:

My gratitude extends to my husband and Levene, Tadman, Golub Law Firm for their generosity. Their sponsorship included the cost of commercially printing the image onto poly satin, batting and backing fabric, needles and thread and tea and dainties like Grandma’s for the inaugural event.

Thank you to Dan Coates and Alex Vanderhooft  of Valley- Apparel + Display, the local Winnipeg Company who produced the HEALING BLANKET’s quilt top using the Dye Sublimation process.

Thank you also to The Winnipeg Arts Council for the award of a Production Grant in 2009 that initiated this local collaboration.

Life lived in the details.

THE IMAGE:
As the event sponsor I invited my husband to choose the motif from my painting archive. After much consideration he chose to honour the 10th anniversary of a friend’s passing by selecting the image of “Red Sky at Night, Sailor’s Delight”, a very small painting that we also refer to as “Campbell’s Tulip”.

Campbell Wright was an accomplished Lawyer, father, husband, colleague and friend who gave back to his community during his short life. We know he would have supported the intention of this initiative and been excited to know the HEALING BLANKET was to take up residence at the new Ronald MacDonald House in Winnipeg.

Doris Onchulenko shown here between her sons taught me the simple stretching technique she used in her own quilting bees.

The Tulip, once a form of currency banks inspiration on many levels. The Tulip is delicate yet has the strength and fortitude to rebound perennially despite harsh and sometimes challenging circumstances. The metaphor seemed appropriate for a Healing Blanket so I was thrilled with my Husband’s choice of motif.

Additionally, as one of my first clients Campbell had commissioned a small acrylic painting of White Tulips for his wife. That painting hung in their home and oversaw our young families gathering and growing. Campbell’s commitment to community continued through his illness as he sought to support others with his kindness and generosity. Experimental treatments he underwent at the time have since paved the way for practices in common use today.

I was at the studio on the day Campbell crossed the rainbow bridge. Art can be therapeutic and on that day I had picked up a small panel c. 12”X 14”, and began adding colour to simply address a need to make marks in acrylic on a surface. The single white tulip that features on the Healing Blanket grew out of the materials on my palette. Later I learned of the news and realised this little painting had been composing itself at the time of his transition. It felt like a parting gift that I passed on to his wife Lynn. It was not until much later that this image became the focus of this Healing Blanket initiative.

Participants contributed stitches in groups large and small.

Some continued stitching long after their friends had moved on.

THE QUILT AS A COMMUNITY CONNECTOR:

I am drawn to community and the small and subtle ways people connect. My Mother in Law Doris Onchulenko was a keen quilter. Her winter practice of hosting a traditional quilting bee was inspiring on many levels. These events often became the focus of a community of women who gathered together in each other’s homes to share in the work of celebrating new beginnings. The quilt tops were the focus of a social and creative afternoon for the women who created them and they also provided a space for compassionate support, companionship and perhaps even a little bit of healthy competition.

I was touched by the gift of a Grandma quilt at our wedding shower and my children have each received the gift of Grandmas time and attention that remains in the quilts she has made for them. Inspired by my Mother in Law’s industry and intention I incorporated the simple system she devised and used to set up and dismantle her quilt projects when it came time to quilt them. In her younger years when she was cognitively able, she would have been very excited to take charge of an event like the many we hosted at the studio or outdoors during events like The WAVE Interlake Artists Studio Tour in June and September most years

While Doris is no longer able to participate in such an activity her kindness and dedication to others is well remembered. It was a treat to see her hands remember how to stitch early in the life of this project, supported by her two sons, while her cognitive abilities had failed.

I love the details . sometimes it’s hard to describe why a small mark can leave such a large impact.

The Healing Blanket Project has provided encouragement for many. I feel very privileged to have heard stories of celebration and loss, to have watched Grandmothers and Grandsons working together with needle and thread in my backyard or my studio, to have seen husbands and wives, girlfriends and even large extended families be inspired and consoled by the process of sharing in a creative act together.

The scope of the project quickly grew beyond the simplicity of its original intention. It evolved to add an element of joy to the narrative that comes with challenging circumstances. The process helped many to soften the impact of loss, to find comfort in a creative pause surrounded by others and their stories. We discovered the power of community together and were reminded we are not alone in the many roads we travel.

The Healing Blanket installed in the stairwell overlooking the play structure at Winnipeg’s new Ronald MacDonald House, 2022.

The Healing Blanket wrote its own stories in the beginning. It was never intended as a memorial but many chose to remember those they had loved within this small creative act. Participants were under no obligation to share their rationale though they were encouraged to leave a note, a name, or an initial to the list of participants. For many time spent being present was sufficient. Some contributors left only a single stitch; others spent hours or returned for second or third annual visits. Some spent afternoons alone or with company. Grandmothers and grandsons, mothers and daughters, fathers, siblings, sisters, friends, girlfriends and extended families in every conceivable configuration met up, joined in or requested a private audience with The Healing Blanket.

A daisy fior Daisy.

 I had the privilege of being a witness to the remarkable ways a colourful piece of fabric brought people together or closer to themselves. My job after creating the image and organising the community effort became that of a facilitator; a needle threader and knot untangler. I enjoyed all of the interactions, the laughing, the joking, the encouraging of reluctant participants to give it a try and sometimes the opportunity to hear the very human stories of inspiration, strength, courage, connection and compassion.

WAVE visitors add to the celebration by taking a moment to add their stitches in real time to this creative collaboration.

Deanna for example was a new friend, introduced to me at my Exchange District Studio. I came to know her through mutual friends who realising my studio was just down the road from cancer care hoped it might provide a coulourful healing oasis for her between treatments in the city. My friends were right and I was happy to invite a new friend to bathe in the healing value of colour. The studio is a cheerful place that overflows with colour through any season. Deanna had active and growing teenaged children of similar ages to mine so beyond mutual friends we already had many things in common.  She had been fighting brave fight but as her prognosis declined her situation came to symbolise the importance of the project. I imagined her sat around the quilt adding stitches with her family and friends but as fate would have it only her family and friends left stitches in her honour on that initial Arts and Cultural Days weekend.

A couple of years later during one of The WAVE weekends at Ponemah the heavens had opened up with torrential rain so the Healing Blanket was ushered indoors and out of the weather. Later that afternoon while the rain continued to fall a Wave visitor knocked on the Bunkie door and asked if THE HEALING BLANKET was still available? Soaking wet and zipped into a rain jacket I didn’t recognise Deanna’s daughter until she said, “I think some people have left messages about my Mom”. We invited the family inside to gather around the precariously leaning rained out project and left them with their thoughts, memories and needle and thread to bring her memory to life with their creative presence, together.

I loved to witness visitors discover a new skill.

The Healing Blanket became a feature of WAVE events I participated in (www.watchthewave.ca). During one sunny WAVE weekend a visitor first observed the action around the stretched fabric and though reluctant to participate immediately, she did spend time at work with needle and thread. WAVE weekends can be busy in our Ponemah backyard so while engaged with other patrons I was pleased to see this guest had taken up the invitation to participate. When finished with a yard full of people, this guest then shared the story of a daughter’s last unsuccessful attempt at pregnancy through artificial means. The air was sacred around this conversation despite the activity going on around us and this guest paused before showing me the flower shape she had contributed. It was a daisy for a granddaughter who would have been named Daisy; the once hoped for child and distinct focus of a Mother and Grandmother that had turned now into a different story.

The Healing Blanket began in my Exchange District Studio. It spent time indoors at gallery events and outdoors at the lake during The WAVE Interlake Artists Studio Tour in many June and September weekends. The process brought people together, gave them a place to leave a physical stitch in time.

There were so many contributors and so many stories.There was also a young local couple, would be parents who found a way to publicly share the very personal news of miscarriage while stitching and healing. The Healing Blanket gave them an opportunity to air their grief and begin to heal from their loss.

There were stories of Dad’s making their first ever marks in fabric, newlyweds taking a moment together, lake neighbours and BFF tweens spending hours annually learning to sew and getting quiet with the creative process. There were even little brothers and sisters at the periphery or under what must have felt like a makeshift fort, not to mention at least one movie star experiencing lake country on a break in the filming.

My girlfriends gathered around the Healing Blanket with wine and cheese as we laughed and cried about one of our group’s palliative diagnoses. My own family gathered around the living room adding stitches in honour of our littlest cousin and niece who is now the Angel on our Christmas tree.

Through Edyn’s Journey we came to know of the very important work Ronald Macdonald House does across the globe. I hear only gratitude for all the staff and volunteers of this organisation who provide a refuge of kindness, compassion, and support for families in difficult circumstances, far from home.

I love this sentiment. There was a lot of this added to this community art quilt.

I have loved being the keeper of the Healing Blanket. If it weren’t for the Pandemic that effectively shut down any further licking of threads to coerce them through the tiny eye of a needle, I am sure the process would have continued until there was not a blank space left to fill on the surface.

The universe being what it is though, the timing of the end of the Pandemic coincided with the completion of Winnipeg’s state of the art new Ronald MacDonald House. The opportunity to donate to this remarkable organization has provided an opportunity to publicly share the message of the Healing Blanket . It was installed just in time for the grand opening.

Neighbours and WAVE visitors found time to be present with the creative process.

If you are reading the story of the Healing Blanket I hope you are encouraged by the joy translated through colour and stitch on this creative initiative. The Healing Blanket is a testament to the many connections we make on our human journey through all its potential narratives.

The Healing Blanket now, appropriately, overlooks healing children at play and I couldn’t have imagined a more suitable home for it.

From this vantage point the simplicity of “Campbell’s Tulip” can offer the inspiration of colour and the healing intentions of hope and renewal to all who view it. Threads of connection and support will flow from the intentions of all who contributed to all who will experience the Healing Blanket into the future. My hope is that you will never experience the Healing Blanket in person, but if you do, please know you are safe within the kind and loving embrace of all who are committed to your healing journey.

May you find comfort in knowing we are never alone in the roads we travel.

The Healing Blanket;’s last WAVE involved hanging out on the areas iconic swimming piers.

It seems we have reached the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I really appreciate you spending some of your valuable time with me. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

The meditation this episode is 11 minutes of self care . I hope you’ll pause with me. It begins at 15:30 in the recording.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode on apple or anywhere you get your podcasts.

Thanks for joining me. Hope to see you next Tuesday.

All best,

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

SYNOPSIS: A CELEBRATION OF THE POPPY

The backstory of studio practice in this episode celebrates the random yet divine ways colour connects us to ourselves and to each other.

We chat about the subjective process of commissioning art and the fact that a refreshed painting is one that was once finished, then finished again.
With a hint of whimsy and freedom we are reminded how we interpret art depends on our perspective and what we are ready to see.

The meditation this week Is a guided self care pause and definitely one for the books. It celebrates the power of intention and encourages us to act instead of react.

Believe me your airport experience will not be the same with this oasis creating technique in your meditative suitcase.
The meditation in this episode is a little longer at 12 minutes., but you deserve it. It’s a very effective chakra cleanse and one of my favourites. Find it at 10:20 in the recording.

“TINA’S GARDEN; A CELEBRATION'‘, Acrylic on Canvas, 36” x 48”, 2022.

Before I begin today I want to express my gratitude…

 I have always appreciated my clientele. In more than 20 years of studio practice you are the reason I have been able to continue to do what I love to do. You know who you are. Whether you started as a friend who became a client or a client who became a friend I want you to know I appreciate you. I appreciate the connections we have made through colour and I am grateful you are part of my community.

 It really is the people we choose to be part of our lives that make it what it turns out to be. My life is better because of my friends and I am grateful for all of them

This 36” x 48” canvas began with the word “CONFIDENCE” inscribed with gesso into the raw canvas surface. This snapshot shows the first two layers that got the composition off and running. First I added colour to the surface in loose confident strokes, then began to draw my thoughts in paint with very liquid acrylic paint.

 I had one friend, and client, comment on my work recently after I had asked if she had any questions for this podcast. She has seen many bodies of work develop over the years and had noticed different “bodies of work” featured periods where different colours dominated the paintings. Picasso had a blue period? Maybe I have had blue, and a red and a yellow period?

I appreciated her observation. Sometimes it takes a fresh perspective for us to realise what we don’t know and to bring our own process into focus.

We had also been chatting about the chakras and wondered together if I had subconsciously been doing personal work while at work within my painting practice. Now I don’t know the answer to that question but the patterns were apparent so I definitely have some thoughts to ponder in reflection.

Inspiration is everywhere. Some of it comes from simple walks in the neighbourhood. This pic was part of a group i took walking along Bishop Grandin Greenaway this past summer. This is one of a group of images that will join images for visual reference in the future.

How about you, has a friend ever brought something into focus for you in your world?  I bet you are nodding your head. Thank goodness for our friends hey, I hope your friends are as awesome as mine. My friend’s favourite paintings over the years have often been those featuring Poppies. The poppy has been a recurring subject in my semi abstracted work with landscape. I use them as a vehicle for colour and have found many others have a personal or cultural association to them as well. I guess you could say the poppy as a subject became my bread and butter as a painter. You know, like a ceramic artist who becomes known for their tea pots or bowls or mugs, I am often associated with the poppy and the use of clear and vibrant colour in my work.

Poppies are definitely inspiring and I am sure their cheeky personalities will continue to inspire me.

Pausing to reflect on where this or any painting is going is a process. Changing the scale, or altering the perspective are strategies i use to see where the painting is in the process and where i might take it, or it me.

 I love for instance, the way the poppy’s delicate paper flower forms react to the wind and choreograph new visual pathways with every breath or gust. I’m inspired by their strength and fortitude knowing they survive such a diverse range of conditions, in such a variety of landscapes and yet still manage to thrive year after year. There is probably a lesson for us all in their example.

 I also have an attachment to particular shades of red. I love for instance, a good shoe tanned to a warm oxblood. I also appreciate the resonance of quinachridone red light which I use in the underlayers of a lot of my work, and, though painting with colour quiets my soul, I am strangely attracted to the screaming nature of particular shades of red. Pyrole red for example which now comes in three “golden” variations is one of my favourites that becomes like an exclamation mark in the visual vocabulary I use in paintiong.

Those lovely reds seek attention like noise in an airport where the din of regular announcements, gate calls, and music compete with rolling hand luggage clattering along pathways in commuting herds.

This snapshot was included as context. Indoors at my studio the paint wall was blooming with colourful works in acrylic. The subject was hypothetical as this was more the end of winter vibe that was taking place beyond my studio window.

I was in an airport as I thought about this episode so the meditation that follows a little later evolved into an effort to find an oasis of calm in the crush of commuter activity. The process developed intentionally while it also addressed a personal need I had at the time to shut out some of the major airport stress we are getting reacquainted with as the world reopens. So maybe my friend was correct in her hypothesis that the elements of a painting become the parts of my accented language that like water finding its level, is the healing journey I travel?

I loved the sketchy nature if this solo poppy that bloomed in the background.of “:Tina’s Garden Celebration”

Staying with the poppy theme this episode I thought I’d share a little backstory about a recent painting with the poppy as subject. Earlier this year I was approached by a couple who were familiar with my work and had decided they wanted to commission a painting for their home. We auditioned sizes and configurations and they decided on a 36” x 48” horizontal canvas. As per my usual process I primed 2 canvases of the same size and got to work on the first.

A commission can be a challenge as I strive to be true to where I am in my personal process while also being cognizant of my client’s requests. None of us can read the visual cues that occur inside the mind’s eye of another, however hard we try, though wouldn’t life be a curious game if we could……

Celebrating life in the details. The texture of canvas came into play in this part of the composition.

As a painting progresses I can sometimes feel i have less and less control. paintings can have drive their own direction.

Because painting is so subjective I suggest that those looking to purchase art do so for themselves only. Please don’t ever buy art for somebody else and never make a purchase because you feel the artist has gone to all this trouble on your account. Believe me when I say nobody wants their work to be relegated to a back room or closet because you felt obligated to make a purchase or gifted art to someone else because you loved it and hoped they would to. Believe me it doesn’t often work like that.

The process of commissioning art.

 When discussing a potential piece and giving instructions for the parameters of a commission there are some who trust in my process and experience and leave me with a “go have some fun, we love what you do” approach. And. there are others who offer more explicit instructions that can occasionally be extensive.

I love the details . sometimes its hard to describe why a mark like the pink stripe in what reads as part of the petal here inspires me. It just does and i work around it to keep it in the composition.

 I love the challenge of painting whatever the subject so whatever end of the spectrum my clients fall into I try to be clear.  I will definitely have fun and enjoy the challenge but I will not offer any guarantees that my vision will match there’s and for that same reason I also insist there are no obligations on either side of the equation.  If after 2 shots I can’t create what you envision then now is just not the right time for us to work together.

Often the problem at the end of the process becomes a complicated choice of which painting to buy? Do they choose the piece that more closely addresses their original criteria, the first version or do they choose  the second composition I painted with less of an attachment to an outcome? On more than 1 occasion my clients have gone home with both.

In this case my clients loved  both pieces for different reasons and after much deliberation adopted the second version. A hint of whimsy and freedom had been the deciding factor that connected this couple to the painting and to a significant event in their lives.

I love the way the universe works and how our individual perceptions connect and converge in such seemingly random yet divine ways.

Detail of “Tina’s Garden Celebration”.

As a composition gets closer to being finished each mark has a larger impact on the surface. Nothing happens in isolation.

Painting 1 has a lovely new home while painting 2 moved temporarily on to the side wall at the studio. My new studio you might recall me saying is tiny so I had a lot of opportunities to see this piece in my peripheral vision as I worked on another series on the paint wall. Eventually I gave in to the “there’s just one more thing” that led to a few more things before I photographed the painting again and added a “refreshed” to the title. The word “Refreshed” is my code for this was once finished then I finished it again.  How to decide when a painting is finished might be a story for another day? We’ll have to wait and see. The week this episode aired coincidentally was the week “Celebration: Refreshed” also moved in with her new family.

This is the other half of this commissioned equation. I made a revision, which means after it was finished, i finished it again.

 Looking through my archive to realised I had created an earlier painting that was full of action and felt like a “celebration”. So the addition of the refreshed is definitely necessary. I can be guilty of overpainting even though I am often striving for simplicity. The best laid plans are sometimes just a plan and we have to accept their evolution through process.  In life as in art some things build in louder and louder layers, much like the sound scape I found in that airport. Other paintings might offer a visual pause or a personal respite, It just depends on our perspective and what we are ready to see.

Looking through my archive I realized I had previously named this busy painting “Celebration”. It has since been made into one of my MANDART pillow designs. These are available seasonally at pop up events or own request.

The colour red is traditionally associated with the poppy though not all poppies are red. The colour red is also associates with our Root Chakra, the energy centre that exists at the base of the spine. The root chakra connects us to the earth, to our physical bodies and helps to ground us in the present. I do have a tendency to be a deep thinker so maybe I have been using colour and red in particular to connect me to the earth, to ground myself in my physical world or to satisfy a need within myself?  Anything is possible right?

“Why is your backpack so heavy?” my husband asks when i occasionally pass him “Bertha” when we travel. On a recent trip i developed the meditation that you’ll find in todays episode. This is the cherry quartz heart i happened to have with me on my journey.

Cherry Quartz can help us to feel energized, to reestablish our equilibrium, encourage, vigour, and enthusiasm …perfect to have in an airport :)

It seems we have reached the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I really appreciate you spending some of your valuable time with me. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

The meditation this episode is 12.minutes but I guarantee you will feel refreshed after taking a self care pause with me. It begins at 10:20 in the recording.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode on apple or anywhere you get your podcasts.

Thanks for joining me. Hope to see you next Tuesday.

All best,

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

We’ve all heard the saying “it takes a village” and I am so grateful for mine.

In today’s backstory we journey to a community of neighbours and friends along the western shore of Lake Winnipeg.
The area’s iconic swimming piers come into focus with the painting “Pier Support”. Art becomes a colourful off season reminder of the value of our connections, to place, to ourselves and to each other.

The guided meditation in this episode minutes reflects on transitions and the potential for new beginnings that come with seasonal change. Tune into your body during these 10 minutes of reflective pause that begin at 7:44 In the recording.

“PIER SUPPORT”, Acrylic on Canvas, 40” x 40”

Welcome back. to the podcast and blog. With this season attempting to place an emphasis on being present I wanted to introduce you to a summer landscape that really grounds me in presence.

 The Village of Dunnattor is Manitoba’s smallest municipality. Manitoba is Canada’s keystone state and this little Manitoban Village is really not that far from the geographical centre of North America…a pretty fitting place for a middle child.

Originally a train stop in Manitoba’s Interlake, set between the expansive lake Winnipeg and the smaller western lake Manitoba. The Village is made up of Matlkock, Whytwold and Ponemah, just south of the Larger Town of Winnipeg Beach on the western shores of Lake Winnipeg. Generations of families have called the region their summer home. Our family was introduced to the area when our children were young and we had opportunities to loan or rent a cottage for a few days or a week at a time.

The Village of Dunnottar’s Swimming piers are a summer feature and neighbourhood favourite. Every view is different from their wooden decks. Those big skies are an ephemeral work of changeable art

 My husband is a runner and on a morning run during one of our cottage visits when our girls were quite young he discovered the Matlock Community club. They ran a summer program for children and drop in visitors were encouraged. to join in.

We were only getting to know the piers ourselves in those days but have come to appreciate the seasonal, daily, and hourly changes in sky and atmosphere from this vantage point.

Our girls were thrilled to make social contact with “Lake Kids” at the time, to feast on the candy bags at the little canteen and to participate in the Matlock “Olympics”, an event that involved skateboards hurtling across ancient wooden floors with seated riders, three legged races and actual “Olympic” medals.  I jest but my seven year old treasured her ribboned medal as if it was given to her with the whole world watching.

Bingo night was a must. There were no dabbers and disposable bingo cards. Instead we got to use bingo card relics from the 50’s that featured little sliding covers. We rented our cards each evening for $1 a card and handed them back at the end of the night. The hall was a sweaty midsummer treasure and as iconic in family memories as the village’s distinctive swimming piers.

Our pier is the last pier in Ponemah. Each year our community eagerly awaits the installation of the seasonal piers. which dot the shores of Lake Winnipeg for a 5-8km stretch. They are completed before the July long weekend, sometimes only just in time.

 The piers are loved by locals and visitors alike. They are a symbol of warm weather, and community, coveted by Canadians. The piers gather us together between the July and September long weekends for sure. We are all hopeful though to see them being constructed or still standing at either end of those warm weeks. The piers punctuate the shoreline all through the village. In the spring the sound of hammering is like a rallying call. The sight of deck lengths dropped off along with bundles of long thin natural posts in anticipation of reconstruction is also a bit of a thrill that gets us all excited about warmer weather even if the season is slow to arrive.

Last fall the pier looked like a character from a star wars movie on dry dock. This year waves were almost breaking over the decks boards.

…In Manitoba our only constant is change…

 Our local piers have been  featured in photographs on social media, in selfies and wedding pictures. They are barometers of lake health and weather systems and some years stand spindly legged above exposed sand looking  like extra-terrestrials out of a star wars film. In other years they are slapped on their under decks by the action of waves brought into the south basin by the unfamiliar chill of northern air. The north wind blows in gusts and brings with it water and more water in relentless waves that refill our southern basin, sometimes too quickly.

My friend Evelyn Ward de Roo made a short film about the piers under construction in 2009. Check the link below in Youtube.

https://youtu.be/ufkz4VRCCxY

I snapped this selfie on the pier after I had made the notes for the meditation in this episode. I was windblown but definitely lulled by the action of the waves below the deck.

We have a front row seat to witness the changes in weather and light with the pier in view from our cottage so I have amassed a healthy collection of images to inspire me. I have only ever painted the pier once though. My painterly style is less representational than that of many artists so a formal architectural feature isn’t something I am usually drawn to (pardon the pun) It’s a challenge to harness my loose style into a suggestion of an architectural structure more conducive to a draftsman’s accuracy and concern with detail.

PIER SUPPORT moved in with a neighbour one WAVE weekend. The bunkhouse during the WAVE weekends comes into play. Preparation can go long into the Friday night before guests arrive.

Every surface comes into play. This was the last viewing of the Healing Blanket Project before it was completed and donated to Ronald MacDonald House in Winnipeg. “Visitors made off with a little “Jazz” in the first wave since Covid with protocols still in place.

 Given my painterly style and the fact these piers are so iconic and beloved by so many you might think a small painting would satisfy my need but no It was a 40” x 40” panel that I under painted with the intention of capturing some essence of our pier, the last Pier in Ponemah.

The sky is big on the prairies; we aren’t called big sky country without reason so the sky was going to be a character in this composition. I tried really hard to strive for simplicity. The underpainting of the foreground came forward in a range of deep and warm reds. 

I then focused on the negative space between the structural elements of the pier using swaths and daubs of liquitex’s brilliant blue liquid acrylic.

 A large summer cloud bloomed to assist the composition and to help balance the intensity of the stick dock whose familiar form was merely suggested. I loved the challenge of trying something new.

This pic was taken just last week during October’s Full moon. The Pier is resting in its off season configuration. When the lake freezes the legs would quickly be lost and decks washed away due to the pressure exerted by the ice.

I was part of the WAVE Interlake Artists Studio Tour that summer and this painting became the poster image for an event at the Winnipeg Art Gallery called WAVE at the WAG. The painting had all kinds of exposure but did not immediately sell so I had framed it with the intention of hanging it in my own cottage. During the fall WAVE event over the September long weekend at the end of that summer I had hung all available paintings on the exterior of the cottage in a lakeside exhibit as I do for this fun community event now in its 21st year. Our next door lake neighbour popped by to visit and unlike previous visits she held her purse close to her ribs as it hung from her shoulder. I joked with her and asked “why the purse?”, “Shopping” she said which was pretty funny considering we knew where she lived.

This is a very poor snapshot of the WAVE at the Wag poster. A detail of Pier Support fills the map of Manitoba.

As other visitors took my attention I wasn’t concerned about my neighbour thinking she was in the garden or taking in the paintings that stretched around the side of the cottage. Some time later I noticed my neighbour being assisted by my husband. They looked like a pair of cats who had swallowed the canary, as they carried the freshly framed “Pier Support”,  from our backyard and into hers. My husband had years before been banished from selling artwork from the interior of our house but apparently that request had not extended to the interior of the cottage.

The Pier features in all kinds of artwork besides my single painting and thousands of photographs I also made a series of Quilt Gems featuring our pier. This gem is 6” x 6” and features my Mother in Law Doris on the deck and my husband on the stand up paddle board. Neither was comfortable around water but the lake has a magical quality that helps many got leave their fears behind.

(Silk dye sublimation fabric collage machine stitching.)

 The painting “Pier Support” is now an off season reminder of our neighbours connection to this very special place that is the summer community we share at the edge of Lake Winnipeg in Ponemah. Our neighbours like so many Canadians have strong ties to their summer landscapes and like us look forward to the annual return of the Village’s swimming piers and all the community connections and summer memories they share and inspire. We love the lake.

Not many cottages become art galleries twice annually. Ours features an assortment of picture hangers year round. ( The paintings don’t stay out beyond the Wave weekends ) This Wave action was our first in person gathering in 2021 while mask mandates were still in effect. It was great to see people out and about.

It seems we have reached the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I really appreciate you spending some of your valuable time with me. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

The meditation this episode is ….minutes but I guarantee you will feel refreshed after taking a self care pause with me.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode on apple or anywhere you get your podcasts.

Thanks for joining me. Hope to see you next Tuesday.

All best,

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

This episode takes me back to a weedy incidental green space where I am reminded of the cyclical ways our journeys connect to our past and to each other.

“Riverview”, the focus of todays conversation, is part of the “Sweet Suite”, a series of small paintings that freely bloomed on panel this summer in the studio.

It is the result of my recent travels along the road less travelled, down memory lane that came full circle into the present. The process allowed for a lovely moment not looking back but pausing reflectively.

Riverside, was part of the summer’s “Sweet Suite Series”. Acrylic on Panel 11’ x 14” makes the paintings in this group small yet mighty. They were a lot of fun to play with in the process.

The meditation practice is inspired by the idea of a reflective pause. In this episode the meditation begins at 5:28 In the recording. It is 12:00 minutes of tuning into the body, listening, relaxing and allowing yourself to accept the pleasure of the pause. Join me for a few precious moments of refreshment and fill your cup to overflowing before you take up the reigns in the rest of your day.

The river is a feature of the city I live in. Winnipeg’s history is enmeshed with the flow of two rivers sitting as it does at the junction of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers. My current studio looks out on the river not far from this vignette.

I delivered a painting to a client recently, one I have known for many years. Our introduction was unconventional but the story of our association is a reminder of the cyclical ways our individual journeys connect to each other. Today’s delivery also brought me back to long ago lovely afternoons when I picked up our daughters from the Montessori Learning Centre’s playground. It was also here that I made my own lifelong friendships with likeminded mamas.

I met this client on that playground too, though indirectly. She was a volunteer then and often found my little Em at the end of her outreached hand during the afternoons activities.

Spring in the neighbourhood. This snapshot taken only a block of two from the Montessori playground our girls once bounced among.

My studio practice then was also in its infancy. Time to be creative was precious and usually undertaken in the rare hours when my household slept. Occasionally I had the energy to get a couple of hours in at my shared and cramped space in a 100 year old building in Winnipeg’s historic Exchange District while the girls were at MLC. A piece I made at the time, called “Angel Blankie, was exhibiting at a juried show in Chicago as part of the international quilt associations conference. Attendance at the largest quilt show in the world was astounding in those days and as it turns out my client was one of those who saw my work there. She told me of her adventure of how she was drawn to a fragile art quilt made of paper silk embroidery and feathers. She was moved by the story that accompanied the piece and realised the maker was Canadian and shared the same last name as her little Montessori friend.

I am still not sure if it was a good thing to be introduced to someone first through an art piece, then via a three year old before I was finally introduced as myself, but we did become friends and our paths have crossed over the years.

I do love the details that show up in my work. Snapshots of details like this hopefully give you an idea of what the surface looks like from the space I work in. I am never more than an arms length away.

Inspiration is everywhere . I don’t ever begin a composition with an inspiration image in hand that I attempt to replicate . I do take lots of photographs though, that can often result in a body of work inspired b y the same experience of a particular place. Each one evolves into its own composition.

 Montessori afternoons were everybody’s favourite. For me they provided respite that allowed for some creative enterprise even if it was just taking photographs to add to my inspire held in the bend of the red river. At the time there was some landscaping going on that formalised public access. Trees and shrubs were planted and the walking trail worn unofficially into place was hardscaped. I love an incidental greenspace so I was naturally drawn to weedy clumps of purple flowers that freely bloomed alongside flowing grasses. Some of my earliest works on paper in acrylic and chalk pastel were inspired by this weedy walk under construction.

This past spring I happened to take a road less travelled. It’s been more than 20 years since those paintings and that Exhibition in Chicago. The landscape continues to bloom with perennial  purple clusters in the spring and I couldn’t help but to take myself down memory lane to photograph the riverside show again.

Later this past summer, at another clients request I began what came to be called the Sweet Suite of 11” x 14” panels that quickly bloomed into a series of 20. The last few pieces were inspired by that resilient incidental landscape with the Riverview.

The sweet suite in progress. Taking snap shots along the way helps me to figure out where I am in a composition. A change of scale is always a helpful tool. A studio practice really is all about practice.

Delivering “Riverside” today I returned to the neighbourhood where my blossoming daughters began their education and the seeds of their early lives were planted. It was a full circle moment for sure.

My client has her own grandchildren now and my daughters are both midway through professional degrees and no longer bouncing in the MLC playground but I have to say I was really comforted by that Riverside drive taken in the present that took me full circle into the past. I was inspired by the memory of a riverside drive taken only yesterday that feels not unlike the many versions of it taken so many moons ago.

You might recall me mentioning in past posts that I often begin with an intention. The Sweet Suite came about fairly quickly in the summer of 2022. I did not add an intention into every panel but the intention to play and love what i was doing in the process was a factor in the series as it developed in the studio. This was the love embedded at the onset of one of the 20 panels the series grew into.

It takes a lot to keep Winnipeggers indoors during the lovely summer months… just saying ‘

Well, that’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. The meditation this episode is a little longer at 15 minutes but I guarantee you will feel refreshed after taking a self care pause with me.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode on apple or anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 5:28 in the recording. I hope you’ll have a listen…and enjoy a little self care with me. Until next time, stay well.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

This story starts out with an intention that turns a blank canvas into a beginning. The episode touches on a compelling pair from the archive that puts personal perspectives into context and helps us to realize there are no wrong answers when it comes to art.
“Blue Gums” are the real star of the show. They evolved through a (challenging for me) less is more philosophy into a refreshingly simple composition and visual legacy.

The meditation begins at 8:36 in the recording. Pause with me this episode for 15 minutes of energetic refreshment. Be reminded, self care is important, and, we all grow when it rains.

BLUE GUMS Acrylic on Panel 40” x 40”, 2022

Thanks for joining in. I appreciate you choosing to spend this time with me to listen in on some of the backstories of studio practice and make connections to your own stories through the example of mine. As an artist my stories are the backstories of inspiration You don’t need to be an artist to listen in but I hope you’ll find the stories interesting.

Starting a painting, any painting for me begins with a mark that changes a canvas or panel from blank to begun. In recent years each surface is first inscribed with or word or intention. It’s not something I preplan. These thoughts are spontaneous terms that somehow connect me to that particular moment. They are the first marks I make on the unprimed surface with white gesso. I try to inscribe the same word on the back so I remember where I started when it’s finished. That term or concept might guide my thoughts as I work through the process and also prove to be something that captures the attention of a client down the road.

In the beginning the canvas gets a free and loose application of tinted gesso. These early marks often lead the way into a composition. The drips are some of my favourite marks. Some of them became the beginnings of the “trees” in “Blue Gums”.

I love the beginning of a painting when there is no attachment to an outcome and the energy of the moment describes the initial layer of the composition.  The second coat is done with a mixture of gesso and a colour or two, often quinocridone red light and either a cool counterbalance to that or a warm orange or sunny yellow that keeps everything harmonious.

The painting “Blue gums” began as part of a commission.  I usually start with two canvas of the size chosen by the client. In this case they were 4 foot squares and big fun that fits in my car. I may have mentioned before, the first piece is based on what I understand the client would like while the second is what I want to do within broader yet similar parameters without any expectations. The process in this case had an interesting twist which might evolve into another story down the road. For now though it’s enough to know the words Peace and Resonance were the embedded intentions I painted with gesso into these two surfaces to begin, resonance being the panel that evolved into the painting Blue Gums that we are chatting about now.

Recently in real life the sky has been putting on its own resonant show. Fall is a great time to stay up late as you might be lucky and capture a glimpse of the Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis showered her magic across the southern basin of Lake Winnipeg recently. Sadly I slept through it but a neighbour shared this amazing capture. Seriously we can’t make this stuff up.

What resonance rose to the surface of this painting I will never know? What I do know is that investment in a piece of art is a two way commitment. As the creator I bring my process, talents skills and vision to a surface while my audience, the viewer or potential client brings their own perceptions biases and experience to the imagery I present in a finished artwork.

Inspiration is everywhere . I don’t ever begin a composition with an inspiration image in hand that I attempt to replicate . I do take lots of photographs though, like this one from the Vancouver property of a friend. Trees grow ridiculously tall in this environment so I may have been reminiscing about past travels while I developed the Blue Gum composition with long leggy trees.

Years ago I exhibited in a well-known restaurant. I was told a set of regulars had bought a particular diptych. When I went to deliver the piece I was blown away by the compliment this client served me.

 “I have seen a lot of art over my lifetime he said, but I have never been compelled to make a purchase” I love that word, compelled.

 This couple were university professors who had a standing Saturday lunch date at this particular establishment. They were so cute. As I was installing the diptych my client drew my attention to marks in the background and asked if I had intended to paint a ship there. He and his wife had discussed and could not agree so he wanted to hear the real story from me. This painting began with a prairie theme. We write and paint what we know so the prairie has been a constant for me over the years. The prairie’s vast and expansive nature has often been compared to an inland ocean, or oceans of earth, particularly when blue flax is mature and the wind whips the periwinkle blooms into vast rippling gusts.  I had not intended the background marks to be a representational shape but that is what my client clearly saw. I paused before I invoked essentially an Alice Sheridan quote long before I had made her virtual acquaintance,

 “Art is not what you see but what you make others see” Every artwork is open to interpretation and in this case I was particularly glad to know my paintings had found such appreciative homes.

THIS WEEK at THE STUDIO I have been working on the business side of my studio practice. Not everyday at my office is about working with materials. Sometimes we need to focus on the ever inclining tech learning curve.

I do love the details that come out of my work and thought I would show you a couple. When we take parts of an image out of context we find all kids of appealing details and tangents to focus on. This is where my gaze rests while i am at work on any painting. Up close and personal.

“Blue Boys” similarly brought my experience with materials and process into focus for my client whose unique perspective and personal circumstances completed her own visual equation.

 I had begun the composition with thoughts of a bend in the riverbank at our neighbourhood park. I have walked that route thousands of times and always appreciate the way the late afternoon light illuminates a particular curve in the river. Sometimes familiar images resonate for us and references to these personal markers find their way into our thoughts and our work which for me is my paintings.

I don’t ever begin with a plan to replicate an actual landscape, but I did hold a desire to design an image that invited the viewer into it and tried to allow space in the composition that offered a sense of depth and expansion. When the arc of a similar curve appeared in the underpainting of “Blue Gums” I worked to preserve it as I allowed the composition to progress.

Here’s a behind the scenes pic. The side yard fence in the shade makes for a handy spot to photograph 4 foot panels. Thankfully I have understanding neighbours. who “Understand” I am an artist. This process is strictly a seasonal endeavour reserved for warmer weather only. Mid winter the snow bank in the side yard would be at least half way up this fence.

To the “BLUE GUMS” composition I added some simple leggy vertical lines that suggested elongated tree trunks. Loose painterly drawing marks made with a wet flippy brush described boundaries between subject and foreground. I tried to keep it simple and to resist my overpainting tendencies. I was kind of pleased when I showed the initial client the two painting starts. It turned out they thought this painting so far to be too blue for their liking and they preferred the developing composition of ‘Peace”.  Their favour gave me an opportunity to put this canvas aside to focus on the other option. By taking a pause from this composition it allowed me to come back to it at a later date with a new perspective, to realise I loved its simplicity

Everything happens for a reason right.  Things evolve as they are meant to in life as well as in art. The client who now owns “Blue Gums” saw the painting at various stages of its development so I was keen to know what had resonated with her that inspired the decision to eventually adopt the painting for herself….

Without a photographer handy in my new studio building I am having to wear all the hats at “my office”. This was a recent attempt at photographing available work to post on instagram with me in it. I have successfully dodged having my picture taken in the past. The “solo selfie” offers a lot of opportunities to veto the results and press delete. How long do you think it too me to get this snapshot? Note Blue Gums in the background.

My client paused and reflected for a moment, “It’s that feeling of fresh she said that inspired her. The “Blue Gums” carry within their leggy structure a sense of relief or refreshment after a storm. She said it feels like looking through a window after the storm. There’s a freshness that happens , where clarity returns and what might have felt worn or heavy by circumstance is punctuated. Her words made me think of a river stone on high ground warmed by the sun juxtaposed with a similar stone immersed in water where the colours and the details are amplified and more pronounced.

 As I painted and moved through my process I wasn’t thinking who would like it, I was focused on evolving a visual composition to a resonate resolution. Don’t get me wrong I want you to love your art whether you buy it from me or someone else and I am not offended when my work is not for you. But I am excited when a particular work resonates for my clients.

I delivered the Blue Gums to my client as it was too big to fit into her car. The delivery date was strangely delayed but as it turned out the painting arrived at exactly the right time on a date that coincided with a really significant event in her life. So now not only does my client live with a piece that visually resonates for her, that painting is now also a visual reminder of that pivotal moment in her personal history.

I find it is definitely true. We grow when it rains. If we look back at moments that have brought with them a positive impact I am certain your growth, like mine, has come after the rain.

A last “BLUE GUM’S” detail, because I couldn’t resist. Looking closely inevitably reveals elementals which are always a fun surprise.

Well, that’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. The meditation this episode is a little longer at 15 minutes but I guarantee you will feel refreshed after taking a self care pause with me.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode on apple or anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 8:36 in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen…and enjoy a little self care with me. Until next time, stay well.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

An Everywhere of Silver is the story of a winter landscape in a summer cottage. It is the story of a journey and adjusted expectations.
This little painting recalls an attempt to take to the road less travelled if only for a little while. It holds the story of a rained out adventure that ended with a gentle reminder and inspiration for a whole new body of work.

The meditation is 11 minutes long in this episode. It begins at 6:22 in the recording.
Taking a break in our own company can be priceless but how often do we afford ourselves that opportunity?
The meditation is a guided journey to an incidental green space in dappled pockets of sunshine. There’s a little elemental magic in getting quiet and being aware of all that is small.
Join me here to engage in a moment of respite, to allow haste to evolve succinctly into ease.

AN EVERYWHERE OF SILVER, 16” x 16’, Acrylic on Panel, 2014

IN this episode I began writing the meditation first so I have inverted my process and paired a small painting titled, “An Everywhere of Silver” from 2014 to share with you.

This little acrylic on Panel lives in the bathroom at the lake so it has met a lot of visitors during its residency. It’s rare that I paint a winter landscape let alone show it in a summer cottage, but I’m going to say this piece is about a landscape in transition and with change our only constant you might enjoy a story about transitions.

If you are not from the prairies you haven’t experienced the excitement of a return to colour when the tail end of winter reveals a new season. And I am not just saying that because I am a painter.

Winter’s white can be diverse and vibrant with pinks and mauves and blues reflected in shade to contrast the luminous glitter of bright sunlight on ice and snow.

Winter lasts a long time where I live so we are always well and truly ready to see less and less snow. This pic was taken during a last blast of winter by our neighbours who were well and truly tired of shovelling this driveway.

There is a spring transition though that we ( or I) eagerly look for most years. Often at that time of year we are driving west to visit family around Easter or spring break and at every turn I am hopeful to see an aqua tinge developing below the softening surface of ice covered slews or water bodies. That hint of aqua is a joy to see. For me it’s an invitation to exhale with the knowledge that winter is almost over and spring is squarely on the horizon.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to encourage myself or anyone else to be hurrying the passage of time, but where I live winter is LONG, very long and we are all relieved when it finally melts away.

Late summer shoreline Lake Winnipeg

As this second season is focusing on presence I want to convey the impact of seasonal change.

“An Everywhere of Silver” is an apt description of that time of year where I live. The title for this little 16” x 16” acrylic on panel came about while I was photographing a body of work with my then Photographer, Rob. Rob Barrow has the most extensive vocabulary and diverse reading list of anyone I know. At the time he must have been reading poetry. Rob moved north of the city which is too far to maintain the practice of copy work for my studio practice, so I am having to manage with my iphone on the side fence in the shade. I really do miss his thoughtful and inspiring wordsmithing.

AN EVERYWHERE OF SILVER is a little painting by my standards. It was part of a series I had begun after spring break in 2014. I was interested inlooking at descriptors of edges, to the boundary where lake Winnipeg met the prairies, to the edges where inland ocean met an inland ocean of earth.

At the time our daughters were actively involved in sports, all of them and as a family we crisscrossed the prairies by car and travelled the country in team groups playing volleyball soccer ringette and hockey.

The little series of smalls was designed to be portable. They began after spring break and a stint at volleyball nationals in the west. I was doing my thing in the passenger seat, active in my role as the drive by shooter gathering photographic inspiration for future use , gathering images i could access at a time when I could slow down and get back to work in a role that didn’t involve driving or juggling literal balls in the air.

I love the energy of the brushstroke. Sometimes i look reflectively at my paintings and think i should add or change something but then i gather my senses and realize each painting is a record of a moment and the decision i made at that point in time should remain.

I love a good road trip and I love my family but sometimes too much of anything can inspire the need for a break, like a solo few days painting plein air.

I had a plan. The plan was to drive north in the Interlake and pause to take in the transition of a new season. As this little journey unfolded the clouds gathered and rain began to fall, the b and b I booked turned out to be anything but what I anticipated and the hotel on the island was a week ahead of its seasonal opening with no room at the inn.

My plans of a leisurely roadside painting foray dissolved into drizzle and a batch of photographs dominated by overcast grey instead of tantalising snippits of deepening aqua in melting ice I had anticipated.

I returned to my dry home after 9 hours in a vehicle with my thoughts and my plans. I came home with the realisation that though my active and energetic family was loud and demanding, they were my family and I was grateful to be back amongst their rambunctious energy, despite what I had thought I needed.

The photographs did become starting points for a series I began later that spring. “An Everywhere of Silver” was my favourite and not a seller, which just goes to show, the universe gave me an opportunity to keep the beginning of this new chapter. The composition is sparse in its use of marks and minimalist in its use of materials, yet is very simply defined that personal journey and the transition I had sought and witnessed in the warming landscape.

THIS WEEK at THE STUDIO…Grandma’s quilting bee experiences were inspirational. I love that though her memory was failing when this picture was taken her hands knew what to do. She spent a lovely afternoon at work on this project in the company of her sons.

Visitors to our WAVE outdoor venue add stitches to The Healing Blanket Project. The project began in 2015 as an Arts and Culture Days event and accompanied studio events until the Pandemic prevented further participation.

An Everywhere of Silver Detail. I have to say I love the simplicity of this little panel, the economy of marks is something I strive for and in this little painting I feel i achieved that elusive goal.

At the studio this week my time has been disrupted by an unusual opportunity. The Healing Blanket found its permanent home overlooking children at play in Winnipeg’s brand new Ronald Macdonald House. When I went to visit on Monday morning I thought we were scouting a landing spot where the project would be installed at a later date. Wednesday was the grand opening which meant I did a weeks worth of work in 16 hours to purchase prepare and add binding and hanging sleeves. It was definitely a worthy marathon .

The Healing Blanket was designed to offer visitors to my studio events an opportunity to add a stitch in lime, with, or in honour of, someone they love or have loved. It became the holder of stories, offered comfort and camaraderie and is truly a remarkable project to be a part of. I’ll be doing an episode on The Healing Blanket in a future episode where i can share all the details and some of the remarkable stories it holds.

The Healing Blanket at its new forever home at Ronald MacDonald House in Winnipeg.

Well, that’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. on Apple Podcasts. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 6:22 in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen…and until next time, stay well.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

In this episode we chat about the painting “with Heart and Soul” and the idea of ritual in the work of art. We find the intention of an action is key and nobody is sitting around eating cake waiting to be inspired.
“Wonderland” is the main topic of todays chat. It is part of a recent batch of paintings trending large on 4 foot panels in my tiny studio space. This diptych takes us on a journey through process, like Alice’s, but without the use of hallucinogens.

Music as muse helps to silence life’s noise and transport us to a crossroads where we are not lost but found, fully present. I always paint with a music in the background. Join in to discover some side notes on the evolving soundtrack that plays in my studio practice. You might learn which David, Joni, Jack, John and Richard currently serenade this soul practitioner at the studio.

The meditation is 10 minutes long today. It begins at 8:41 in the recording. Process and practice are at the core of this invitation that allows a glimpse into a very personal and formerly private meditative writing ritual.
Connecting to the wisdom we all have access to is the end goal here. I hope you will listen in to rest your heart in the details of your own story.

WONDERLAND: HEART/ SOUL on the paint wall at the studio. Acrylic on panel, Each panel 48” x 48”, 2022

This is not the final version as I do remember adding some late marks while the pair hung on the outside of our cottage during the WAVE Interlake Artists Studio Tour in June of 2022. There’s always just one more thing to add that will either make a composition sing or kill it. I’m happy to report is continues to sing.

Thanks for stopping in to check out this weeks episode featuring WONDERLAND.

Today’s theme seems to be RITUAL.  When I looked up the definition of Ritual I found the intention of the action is Key.  Most activities are considered ordinary unless the action has an air of seriousness about it that makes it somehow sacred.

Ritual can also be described as an act or series of acts regularly repeated in a set manner, or sometimes  as a habit, a pattern or a practice.

When I think of my studio art practice I know I follow prescribed patterns of behaviour as I engage with materials in process. My actions could be called patterns when I reach for a favourite colour or tool or purchase a particular brush or brand of paint because I like the way it feels. I think we could all probably find ways that we have each embedded subtle and not so subtle rituals into our everyday lives.

WONDERLAND in the very early stages. I love the energy of the beginning stages when the action is rapid fire. My intention is always to cover the surface, to play and hold no attachment to any outcome. This is the stage where the composition starts to flesh out and lead the way forward.

Over the course of the last 20 years or so I would say I have definitely had plenty of time to practice, to engage, to explore and to create. I don’t know if that makes my work ritualistic or not but it definitely feels more elevated than an ordinary personal activity of mine. Plus I love what I do. Does that count?

In recent work this past year I have noticed a tendency to paint large. 4 foot panels have regularly bloomed on my paint wall. Perhaps it is the season for large squares to appear solo or to join together into pairs to create diptychs? The process of creating them gets both my mind and body moving. I tried to apply my usual process to the pages of a sketch book this past July. I wanted to be flexible and portable over the summer. It was a challenge and an activity that was quickly abandoned. I have many sketchbooks on the sidelines waiting for me to adapt to their size and media but so far I think it is something about the scale that stifles me.

How about you? Do you have routines you have attempted to alter? Hopefully you had more success than I did.

WONDERLAND Ultra Detail. I love the energy of the brushstroke. Sometimes i look reflectively at my paintings and think i should add or change something but then i gather my senses and realize each painting is a record of a moment and the decision i made at that point in time should remain.

Recently back at the studio after a break I have been painting again and am working on smaller panels in groups of 18” x 24” and 20” x 36’s. These sizes are available most importantly which is key at the tail end of a pandemic when supply chains have been problematic. They are smaller than the 4 footers, I can manage to schlepp them easily in and out of my car but they are also large enough that when gathered together into pairs and trios I am afforded the freedom of movement not found within the warping pages of a sketch book. It has definitely been fun getting back to work.

WONDERLAND left Side, HEART, 2022, Acrylic on Panel 48” x 48”

WONDERLAND: SOUL, Right side of Diptych

In this episode I want to share one of those 4 foot pairs that have become a big part of my practice. The diptych is called “WONDERLAND: HEART/SOUL”, and I completed it at the end of December 2021. It’s one of my favourite recent works and I am seriously searching for a spot at home to install it. I called it Wonderland with the help of friends on social media who thought the imagery was like falling into a different world, just like Alice’s. I loved that sentiment but you should know there were no psychadelics involved.

The act of painting and the creative decisions I make in the process do transport me into a different world as I work. The actions that created this painting, “Wonderland”, really are the result of “an act or series of acts regularly repeated in a prescribed or set manner”. Painting begins with routine for many artists, for me it is metaphoric music to my ears. It is also a regular weekday process for me and mostly it is undertaken to a soundtrack.

Inspiration is everywhere.

These pics were taken in an incidental green space I discovered in the historic part of Montreal. The memory of the warm sunshine and the scramble of the uncultivated grasses and hardy native plants was where my focus was drawn as a starting point.

During covid I discovered podcasts so listening to a faux colleague while I worked become a thing. As a “Soul Practitioner” I am low on the scale of workplace interactions so I have found that helpful but music is still my go to studio companion. In the early days I was weirdly addicted to David Bowie. Any Bowie fans out there?   

David serenaded me into the night when I worked in my downstairs sewing room as our young girls slept. At the studio on my CD player, yes I was old school, and may still be? I rotated through periods of John Mayor, Jack Johnson and Joni Mitchel among others. I have named many paintings after song lyrics as well as a trio called “Gardening with David and Joni” from way back that refers to the artists I listened to as I painted. Bryan Ferry…  Bryan Ferry in his Roxy Music stage brought instrumental soundtracks into favour  not to mention Avalon,  hmmmm….

Here I am at the studio laying down first marks. This is a screen shot of a short video of my process but in this blog I was limited by my tech skills and couldn’t figure out how to add a video. If you know let me know.

Inspiration is everywhere and sometimes I come across it in the most unusual spaces. Like on one long ago visit to Australia to see family we found ourselves at the Curumbin Markets on the North coast. As visitors we followed our experienced family on this holiday ritual and maneuvered a prescribed path in a set manner that began with turning right at the entry. I tend to get distracted, surprise surprise. Tuning out was one of my super powers after years of kids in sport, constant volleyball whistles at National tournaments and hours in the car with excited teenaged teammates or duelling sisters spouting “She’s looking through my window” from the backseat. And no, I am not making this up.

I can also be pretty quickly tuned in when my imagination is engaged. Silencing the noise around me in fact I think is part of my natural creative process that settles around me as I gather focus and come into flow. Our travels through the market that day brought us to the most incredible calamari vendor who cooked very simply on a single burner. Oh my goodness it was sensational. While scarfing down the calamari at the market I remember hearing delicate piano music in the distance and I found myself drawn like the pied piper towards the notes aloft in the air.

I met Richard Goldsworthy there and bought one of every CD he had on offer. His creative output became the backdrop to mine once I returned to my Winnipeg studio. I played only his Cd’s, on repeat, for literally years, eventually wearing them out until there was one last soldier serenading me. On one adventurous day I thought I would try to switch things up but when I replaced the Richard Goldsworthy CD with something else the CD played would not work at all. I returned the Richard Goldsworthy CD and it magically played??  Even my ancient CD player was reluctant to let that soothing serenade go. You will be pleased to know I have updated myself and downloaded all of his CD’s onto my iPhone. (Look at me moving into the 21st century with no CD player required)

What’s your favourite soundtrack? I’d love to know.

You know I love to view life in the details. This little vignette from WONDERLAND shows that less can definitely be more. This is the view I see while working at an arms length from a surface. We need to take a few steps back in real life to let the perspective settle and allow for the eye to fill in some of the details.

Music is part of many rituals and ceremonies. In my studio familiar sounds resonate and set the tone for the creative day to follow. Time can stand still and I find myself lost in the process. Lost is maybe too harsh a word as really I find myself at the paint wall hyper focused and fully present, less lost I guess and more found at the crossroads where action and presence meet. I guess I am one of the lucky ones who gets to work and play in a literal wonderland.

At the studio this week my time has been disrupted by an absence, unexpected travel takes us out of familiar routines and wakes us up to the landscape around us in new ways. You've probably gone to new places and found yourself focused on unfamiliar details .or inspired by something you saw or experienced. I think I am drawn to see the world in its interesting details and then to transcribe some of that into various aspects of my art process from there. Lately though I have found my computer is joining me in my space as I am focused on writing and contemplating what is next for my paint wall.

Wonderland has taken up temporary residence in my husbands office.( i.e he is storing it for me on his lovely large

neutral wall. My work benefits from the ability to view it from a distance as well as up close. As you can see from the details each viewpoint is very different. This detail has become the newest addition to the MANDART GREETING CARD BOX.

Well, that’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen…and until next time, stay well.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

We celebrate connection in todays backstory. Connection to our past: relationships, spaces and places and end up in the present musing about imagination and a sisterhood evolving in vibrant colour on the paint wall.

With the example of “Crossroads”, a marker at the beginning of a new chapter in my studio archive, we are reminded that creativity is a powerful journey.
Marks made in expression are made in many mediums and sometimes might not be a physical action at all.
Life evolves.
Cast across distant memories our backward glances might offer us a little perspective or contextual insight but the present moment is where we live and what will always lead us forward.
The road less travelled beckons as we grow and evolve into the highest version of ourselves.

The meditation in this episode is 10 minutes long. It begins at 10:12 in the recording and takes us on a journey into my impression of a landscape, to a candy coloured windbreak.
Together we’ll allow intention to lead our tranquil breaths to pause between actions on an imaginary journey of self discovery.

What whimsy will build around you at the crossroads where action and presence meet?

“CROSSROADS”, 24”x 36”, Acrylic on Canvas, 2010 by Amanda Onchulenko

Connecting to others through creative enterprise has been a highlight of my journey so far. It never ceases to amaze me how our stories and our histories intersect and how many connections I have made through my work as an artist.
 There is so much to celebrate in our connections from the briefest acquaintance to our longest and oldest friendships.

 Today’s podcast, the beginning of Season 2, celebrates connections made and rekindled. The back story of “Crossroads” the painting takes me back to first friends in Canada. For me, the image is a reminder of new beginnings and new stories. This new season of the podcast similarly puts me in mind of things starting anew, of the potential for new connections and the beginning of stories that are yet to bloom.

This past little while, while I have been contemplating where to take Season 2, I took myself on a midsummer hiatus out of town. It’s great to get away but equally good to return to some routine and for me that is the comfort of paint and colour. So at the studio I have been working on a triptych inspired by a casual section of poppies planted at the edge of a local vegetable plot carefully tended by a neighbour I am yet to meet.

I am always open to new inspiration. This group of cheer leaders lined the edge of a public garden plot along a local cycle route. I couldn’t help but to stop and “smell the roses” and store some pics for a later date with colour.

I am always on the lookout for little incidental greenspaces and poppies call to me every time. It's something about their cheeky personalities and their floppy faces suspended above fragile stems. I naturally paused to take some pictures on my phone that I thought I would use as a painting starting point in the future.

A new season of painting after a break is a crossroads of sorts. When i begin a painting I start with casual and loose colour and gesso to cover the surface and rid the canvas of white. The underpainting tends to lead me on its own journey as I paint regardless of what my original intentions are. In the “Sisterhood” trio I allowed myself to be guided by new marks as I laid them down. I was intentional about using my brushes in different ways, of including a rubber spatula in my painterly tool box and to see where the unfamiliar application of media would take me.

As a new beginning after a break this trio helped me to get back into a painterly groove. They began at the crossroads where action and stillness meet. They took me on a ride, became a sisterhood as they conversed with each other, became friends and then a community. The beginning always flows freely and without restriction. The middle of the process got a little rocky ( you know everything went to heck in a handbasket ) but I accepted where they were and trust in my experience with the process to bring them to a compositional resolution. I’ll share the finished version on the blog when they are complete but for now I just want you to know how good it felt for me to get back to a routine, to feel grounded in my own painterly rhythms.

This is part ! of the “SISTERHOOD” triptych that was developing on my paint wall as I was writing this podcast. See the finished Trio in the gallery pages. ( because I can’t for the life of me get them to show up aligned in this blog) tech….

Taking a break is refreshing and necessary but getting back on the horse is equally necessary. How about you? Do you have something in your life that you simply must get back to?

“Crossroads” is the name of today’s painting from my archive. This painting from 2010 has inspired many things for me since then, including a book I published in 2018 titled “WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS” and this Podcast. My little book so generously described by a friend “as weightier than its small stature” was the result of my personal experience with change. I called it wisdom at the crossroads because it was at a crossroads that my life came to a literal and metaphoric halt. In a split second my world was altered.

A Ford F150 careened through the intersection on my turn light and i thankfully, walked away from the wreckage, changed. The healing journey took longer than anticipated but on that journey I discovered meditation and a spiritual practice at a time before Mindfulness was a term in common practice. I couldn’t lift a paintbrush for a long time but the quiet of healing translated creative expression into words. I came to realize I was gifted time to slow down, and I remembered I loved to write.

Taking a page out of my book. Here is a snapshot of CROSSROADS as an illustration. “Wisdom at the Crossroads” the book inspired the name of this Podcast. This little book I like to refer to as “Yoga for the Mind” or a picture book for adults. It has proven to be a favourite for girlfriend gifting and appears on coffee tables and book shelves everywhere. Send me message if you are interested.

 I found myself at a new crossroads recently on this podcasting journey. I held a desire to do things differently post covid in ways that did not involve schlepping large paintings. Sorting out the details was a “bit of a challenge”. I enlisted my daughters help to figure out a title and after many unsuccessful versions she typed in WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS to see what would happen…the name was miraculously available.

We took that as a sign, a nudge from the universe that was allowing me to reflect on the questions I had on the tip of my tongue…”If not now, when” and, “Why not me?” A Podcast host???? Of course you can present a visual discussion, with an accent, and without visuals. What was I thinking?

The painting Crossroads is not large and would easily have fit into the back of my car, 2 x 3 feet.  Unlike the groups of 4 foot panels that have bloomed in the last year in my new smaller space. Like my current work Crossroads began with a different intention that evolved into what it became.

In my painting practice I am trying hard to relinquish control of intended outcomes and accept the turns and transitions as they evolve in the process.

“CROSSROADS II” was a commission painted at the request of a client who like me was also taken with the candy coloured trees in the background. I tell my clients that i can never replicate a painting of mine from an earlier era but somehow the intention translates and an impression of the original evolves into its own composition.

Life is full of turns and transitions, some are expected, and many are not. This painting came about after the passing of a close friend when my family had sat beneath the twiggy limbs of a sapling planted to mark the resting place of his ashes. The site is beautiful and expansive, and like our friends passing the location at the top of a ridge on the boundary of a valley carved deep into the endless prairie, is also an anomaly.

I began painting “CROSSROADS” with an intention to describe the horse trails in native undergrowth in the foreground below the ridge, the fields sectioned into colourful quadrants in the middle ground and the homestead in the distance under a prairie sky. I had already under painted in contrasts as is my habit so the upper third of the canvas was a range of pinks and lemons. At my next studio visit I began blocking out what I thought would refer to the farm buildings by inverting positive and negative space. As I worked the variegated pinks of the underpainting evolved into a row of voluminous trees. They felt magical and minimalist but somehow necessary and so the plan was revised. The middle ground does reflect the prairie segmented into sections and the foreground is loosely descriptive but the intended landscape is barely a reference to the original plan, and that is ok.

These curious Icelandic Horses roam the lands the fictitious “CROSSROADS” was inspired by. They are part of a unique herd in Manitoba that agists in the Neepawa Valley.

 Those pink trees though are the highlight of the composition. Details of them have appeared on prints, on bookmarks and as greeting cards. This painting, “Crossroads” is definitely one of those paintings that got away. Given its personal significance I really should never have sold it. It was sold back in 2010 through the once upon a “Fish Fly Gallery” at Winnipeg Beach. I did not meet the buyer then, but mid-pandemic I had an opportunity to participate in a little outdoor art market in Manitoba’s Interlake. Under a flimsy canopy in the rain I had a small display that included a triptych I had just completed. It was so fresh is was probably still wet from the palette as well as the rain. It  drew lots of attention as new friends and old joined us in our socially distanced space. Among them a couple taking shelter from the rain turned and asked if I had painted a painting called “Crossroads”. They had bought it for their daughter at Fish Fly and told me it resides happily in Toronto where it introduces the magic of this prairie resting place to a vibrant urban environment. I was glad to know it had gone to an appreciative home.

Sometimes a detail of a painting will end up as a MANDART PILLOW like this one called ABUNDANCE from a 2021 painting. The original now resides with CROSSROADS’ original owners. Pillows are available at pop up events or on request.

CROSSROADS is clearly a favourite. I have reprinted the image as a constant member of MANDART GREETING CARDS. Series 6 is recently hot off the press.

That couple went on to commission a new painting for themselves that turned into two paintings. I was glad to have learned where Crossroads had ended up and grateful for the continued support of my clients. Isn’t it neat how the world works, how interactions can come full circle like that.

 My book “crossroads” ends with the quote. “There is no going forward looking backwards” I wrote it I know, and I roll my eyes at myself thinking I should be listening to my own advice, but a little backward glance can afford us a little perspective, or some contextual insight when we find ourselves at the beginning of a new chapter or season, can’t it?

“YELLOW BRICK ROAD” acrylic on panel, 11” x 14” is part of “The Sweet Suite” of smalls I painted over the summer. On this panel i was auditioning a rubber spatular as I sought new ways to play with tools. She was inspired by the inspiration gathered earlier in the summer along the cycle path. The rest of the series is soon to be uploaded to the gallery pages.

The painting “crossroads” may well have been the one that got away. It was the marker of a new chapter or beginning in my archive. Whenever I see “Crossroads” on a bookmark or a greeting card in reproduction I am always drawn to the horizon where that row of voluminous pink trees, that added themselves to the painting, rest. They take me back to childhood and sticky servings of candy floss held on leaning wooden sticks at the fair. Australians would know candy floss, spun sugar, as Fairy floss. I love that term as it reminds me of the elemental magic all around us.

In the meditation that is part 2 of this episode I’ll be inviting you to experience your version of a candy coloured wind break. I hope you’ll join in to listen to the episode as we travel an imaginary path to see what lies beyond that fictitious ridge. I know you’ll feel rested and revived after the short pause we take together.

“NEW NATURALISM” Triptych was the freshly completed Trio i took to the Covid Market in the Interlake and the painting that brought the owners of CROSSROADS back into my sphere. BTW a little rain didn’t hurt them at all :) Each panel 18” x 36”

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on apple podcasts . Thanks for sharing your time with me. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

All best, Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

Episode 20 marks a milestone for me. My podcast has so far been about the backstories of various paintings. The end of season 1 is less about endings and more about absolute beginnings.
The backstory of “INTROSPECTION” is essentially my backstory. The painting is 30” x 40” of 17 year old me at the tail end of the Photo Realist era, blending yet not trying to conform.
This first major painting became a deep and thoughtful, painstakingly rendered, reflection on the developing self and the value of mentorship. The episode follows up with reflections on the supportive structures and people we seek and discover who help to guide us through the business of life and art.

This week is about gratitude for my “village”, for you for spending your valuable time listening in or catching up through the blog. It’s about courage and commitment, growth in the present and being seen in a very first exhibit in the past.
Season 1 was the response I created to answer my own questions, “If not now, when?” And “Why not me?”, which we all can ask ourselves. Together like any good diptych or triptych, we are greater than the sum of our parts.

Check out the expanded show notes below and do enjoy the meditation which begins at 11:38 in the recording.
It begins with a reference to a beautiful dream and an invitation to be open and accepting of opportunities for transformation and growth that exist around us all.
Go ahead, dive in to a world of imagination and possibility. I’ll meet you there with a breath of fresh and loving air.

INTROSPECTION detail at home 40 years later. Acrylic on Canvas c.36” x 48” 1983.

This episode marks the end of Season 1 and I can hardly believe it. It doesn’t feel like an ending as it seems I am just getting going on this podcasting journey.
On any journey we meet others along the way. I am especially grateful for your accompaniment listening in. I hope you are connecting to your own stories through my examples.

Nothing happens in isolation and though i might be recording these episodes in the glamorous surroundings on the floor of my closet, made cosier loaded with sound absorbing pillows., it is definitely not the curated capsule Barbara Eden inhabited in “I dream of Jeanie” in the late seventies.

Here in my make shift beginner recording studio I have often ended up laughing at myself getting tangled up in my own words. Sometimes I may have uttered the odd swear word or curse? but you’ll never know thanks to Andrea.
I have not undertaken this adventure entirely alone.

I met Andrea Mccallum, Host of “Spirit Crumbs” Podcast online and she is doing the heavy tech for me, editing and uploading. Thank you Andrea. Anne Barnes host of “Raising Inner Warriors” podcast is keeping me accountable. We met in an online course with Cathy Heller. I didn’t even know I wanted to do a podcast when I came across her serendipitously but I did know I wanted to do things a bit differently

INTROSPECTION detail. There was a lot of painstaking blending and attention to details for my then 17 year old self. My painting focus may have changed drastically but snippets of that version remain. Not necessarily the agitated screaming version presented here. lol

Last fall Cathy Heller asked a question that really resonated with me. It inspired this new journey. The question she asked was, “Where will you be a year from now?”

In response too that question I chose to take a risk to share my accented voice as i answered my own questions ...
“If not now, When?” and “Why not me?”.

If we have learned anything in the past few years it is that life is precious and like Forest Gump we never know what we are going to get when we open up our box of chocolates
Finding mentors and mentoring. learning and teaching, growing and moving forward are some of what I have come to believe this journey called life is all about.

The painting I want to share with you today to end of Season 1 goes back to the very beginning of my creative journey, to my seventeen year old self creating my Grade 12 major work for the Higher School Certificate in Australia.
Diane Epoff ran the art department at that time and she was young and enthusiastic. She became a mentor and was an amazing inspiration to many. I was on a science trajectory at the time but art history was also a passion that spilled out into the art room where my cohort Sher, and I spent days in the storeroom at play with materials putting together our portfolio’s for art school admission. I loved the experimentation with materials and the freedom to play but the unofficial skip day was a little problematic for my unblemished attendance record. The fact that I was school captain also made the (mis)adventure a little more risqué. Diane was supportive and encouraging through all of it and even drove us the two hours to Sydney to tour the grounds of the Art school and to deliver our portfolios by hand. Two of her 6 senior students went on to exhibit with Art Express and were later accepted into Austalia’s most prestigious art school. This was a major coup for our regional high school on the south coast and for Diane, our mentor, in particular.

I found this on a friends facebook. Thanks Tony S. Grade 12 Oak Flats High School 1983. Even then it seems i had an affinity for screaming reds

“Introspection” began with a photographic study. I ranged the quadrangle during art class as I learned to use an SLR camera. Here I found students on the way to the bathroom or the principles office and asked them to pause for a minute to take their picture. They were always happy to indulge my request and delay their return back to class or wherever they were headed.

Alex Stajonovic was in the grade below mine but he was a big personality who was naturally happy to participate on his way back from the canteen one morning. Alex is in the foreground bottom right. Tim Dodds from my grade has the dark roguish curls, my sisters friend Leonie the long blonde straight locks. I wanted variety in my subjects in terms of gender, grade and hairstyle. Diversity was not a thing in the region at the time. From the many portraits i collected i ended up with this arrangement. My bff Vicki had been enlisted to take photos of me. I disliked having my picture taken then as I do now but in those days we had film and not the luxury of an immediate digital review. That’s me going against the grain in Small town Coastal Australia where uniformity was both encouraged and expected. Creativity was a bit of a blip on the radar but no matter how hard I tried to colour in the lines it just wasn’t how things worked out. lol

Not everything was a variation on the brown theme where I grew up. This is local Shellharbour North Beach

My dad built me a fine stretcher frame for this project and later became known for the lightest tightest and most solid stretchers on our art school campus. I was excited to stretch my own canvas in grade 12 to begin the painting which was an exercise in patience and observation. 1982 was at the tail end of the photorealist era championed by Chuck Close in the US and Jeffrey Smart in Australia. In the paintings of the latter the freeway that wrapped around the printmaking campus on Cumberland street , The Cahill Expressway, was not far from circular quay on Sydney Harbour’s “The Rocks”. This coridor featured in several of his paintings.
Anonymity reigned in his work and in the big city.

We had a lot of fun there and soon realized Art school was a lot different to the painting weekends Sher and I had indulged in in our backroom in Grade 12. At that time others would be sneaking off to the bar but we were painstakingly blending ochres and oxides into neutral tans and earthy skin colours late into the night. Red oxide yellow ochre and burnt umber combined with black and white in tints and shades. This kept the subjects uniform. Their personalities came through in small ways described by shape, texture and individual poses. For such a still painting there was a lot of movement in the composition. There are many lessons i gathered in those long weeks that I continue to use in my current practice. The blending, the earthy colours and the figurative photorealism have not been a thing in my work for years. Instead the remnants of a double major in Printmaking seem to have held on.

This fun little art room monoprint was made on the unofficial “skip day” and became part of my art school portfolio submission.

Our Art school was spread across two campuses which meant for a long walk or a 380 bus ride across the downtown of Sydney, from Oxford Street in Paddington on the border of the red light district to the printmaking and photography studios on the Cumberland street campus . The journey took us through the reality of Jeffrey Smart’s cityscapes with the human content unedited.

Printmaking can be toxic I soon learned. In those days we used oil based inks and sprayed the screens clean using copious amounts of paint thinner without respirators. The process gave me headaches but I learned to tame the discomfort with a coffee and cigarette at the break. I also learned to think in layers, to hold one colour at a time in my hand, to use the same colour in multiple areas of a composition and to create darks by mixing compliments together. These are all aspects I continue to use in my painting practice. combined with clean brushes to give my work its signature colour that resonates as energy within a composition

Introspection off its stretcher. This painting has been in classrooms on three continents and now finds itself off its stretcher in my sewing room. Can’t live with it can’t live without it lol

My Major work in Grade 12 was the first piece of mine to be publicly exhibited. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. I learned after the fact that my painting had been set up high in the Hordon Pavillion, Sydneys iconic concert venue where it was used as a grading signature against which other entrants major works were evaluated. This was the only venue large enough to accommodate the creative contributions of an entire states budding artists. It was also in this same venue that years later I stood with my boyfriend, mere feet away from Bono during an epic U2 concert and also the place where I danced on a chair while in a cast to my hip when Bruce Springsteen came to town.

All that observational skill and uniformity I used in “introspection” must have been appreciated then. Spontaneous it definitely was not. When it came back from exhibiting around the state it had a 2 inch tear in the canvas where careless handling had pierced the surface. That taught me to be a careful packer and an even more careful handler or artwork, mine and anybody else’s.

Local context, Shellharbour North

Favourite morning walk

In art school I had also learned not to stand on the median between four lanes of rush hour traffic with a large canvas when it was windy and that the bus driver will let you on with your project but good luck in rush hour.
Schlepping was a thing even then. These days I restrict myself to panels that can fit in the back of my car with the seats down. I will no longer rent a truck to transport a commission.

The ability to spend hours engrossed and in my work is another habit I have held onto. Sometimes it might be better if I could also take a look in the mirror before heading out and about after my studio time. That way i might not be told by the cashier at the third stop on my way home, “Oh there’s something green on your face” , umm there. oh and there and on your chin too”. OMG

l am still guilty of losing track of time and having to rush off without taking time to check all my surfaces paint but that’s just that way it is and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You know I love to view life in the details. This is Tim Dodds and I.

This first podcasting season has been a lot of things. First and foremost its been a healing journey for me. i learned to do hard things, to share my voice, to wrestle technology to try to be a mentor myself in some small way for you along your journey, creative or otherwise.
Creativity is my companion on the roads less travelled that i have always been drawn to. I hope in listening you have gained some insight into my process as well as my methods of processing and that these examples might give you food for thought on your own journey.

I especially hope you have been able to pause to participate in the meditations. Honestly I find even typing them out that I feel my body relax and settle and start to tune out... you know those head bobs we do when we are watching a movie and its late. I rarely get to the end of the movie but i have been able to get myself back on track to finish the meditations. They generally find their way to the page sometimes without much input from me. I am sometimes amazed to find such Wisdom, at the crossroads, where action and presence meet.

Season 2 is still evolving. I know it will begin with a painting called “Crossroads” and it might take a stroll towards textiles. If you have any questions or requests please feel free to reach out. I am open to connecting and collaborating and hope to see you back in September. In the meantime please revisit any of the stories or meditation that have resonated for you and if you feel inspired, please do welcome a friend of two to listen in too.

Local colour may have left more of a lasting impression than I had imagined? This is an example of a current work, WONDERLAND, a diptych, each panel 4 feet x 4 feet. Large paintings have bloomed on my painting wall this past winter. Apologies for the snap shot quality. I am missing my photographers technical skill. This painting may have had a couple of tweaks in the foreground since this pic was taken, …it happens, just sayin’.

Well, we have come to the end of todays backstory. Thank you for spending your valuable time tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on apple podcasts . You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

All best, Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

The jostling characters of this small but feisty composition, 13” x 14”, on panel, affectionately titled “Shrinking Violets compete for attention and visual elbow room. In this fictitious perennial garden, full of vibrant colour grants an introduction to new beginnings that merge a path of discovery and experimentation with textiles and technology.
We learn the value of a good reading list and friendships; in life, art and business. We also discover that red is delicious no matter which way you serve it.
Join me to discover some creative magic along the road less travelled.

The meditation begins at 10:00 In the recording. This one comes from the child within me. It takes us on an imaginary journey through “Adventure Island” and passes through a threshold to interact with a version of ourselves.
I hope you’ll join me as we; visualize. Reflect and project; to seek awareness, connection and gratitude, together.

SHRINKING VIOLETS, 13” x 14”, Acrylic on Panel, 2007

“Shrinking Violets” is a small composition by my standards. She doesn’t take up much room physically though visually she packs a bit more punch and carves out a little more elbow room for herself than we might think she would need.

` The subject is a sunny clatch of energetic blooms competing for space and resources in a rambling garden vignette. They have that rambling english garden feel, more kitchen garden than formal border. At 13” x 14”, painted in acrylic on panel, what she lacks in size she more than makes up for with intensity.

The composition features exuberant characters that range from poppy like blooms to the suggestion of a rose. The trio of red, yellow and blue are well represented though the yellows are earthy and lemon, the reds are clear and demanding while the blues are dominantly mid ranged and intense. There is nothing subtle about these “Shrinking Violets”.

The composition has some diagonal elements that help to suggest movement within the squabble of garden girls competing for attention. At the time I painted this series I was also exploring work in textiles, the duel arms of my studio practice were developing yet also merging in new ways. I had applied for and  was awarded an arts council grant to support my explorations that sought to find a way or ways to transfer my painterly signature to fabric. I had been advised on more than one occasion to make a choice to find my voice in one media instead of spreading my limited work time thinly across both. I couldn’t do it then and i don’t  think I can now, so instead I sought ways to find common elements between the two that i could elaborate on in some way.

Shrinking Violets Yellow Detail

My inexperience with blurred boundaries in my studio practice might have mimicked my issue blurring the lines between personal and public space. In my defence though, if you had wandered into my front yard to photograph my garden i would probably have made you a cup of tea as we visited and sent you home with a cutting or two and some seed heads.

I mention the Tresspassing series again in this episode because it was timely, the paintings of that series were small and portable and miraculously fit the limited space of the scanning bed I was able to access for my experiments. I needed to get an  extremely high definition image of an example of my work.  “Shrinking Violets” was an image that was current at the time, incorporated a wide colour range and she fit the scanning bed. That made her the perfect candidate for my initial experiments into reprographic processes.

So why bother? Why go to all this trouble?  Why couldn’t I just paint on fabric in the same way I painted on canvas or panel?  Well, Painting with dye on cloth produces a watercolour effect where the colours bleed or diffuse across the surface and soften into a delicate effect. The word softness was not a word many if any would apply to a description of my work in acrylic at the time, or now for that matter. Watercolour is soft and delicate in comparison to the energetic and bold, some might say intense compositions that evolve at the end of my paintbrush.

I could achieve some of the intensity of acrylic on panel painting on fabric, by adding mediums to the colour . That might help the intensity and show the action of the brushstroke more effectively but the surface would become so hard and dense that i could no longer machine stitch through it. Breaking or gumming up needles as i tried to add machine stitching stalled my progress.

When the process of dye sublimation was introduced to me by a knowledgeable and supportive local firm I was excited about the potential of our collaboration. In fact i have continued to be inspired by this local company and I have maintained a working relationship with them since 2009. Shrinking Violets had the colour range I thought would be a good place to start and as well she has several areas within the composition that i like to refer to as Compositional seeds. These were areas of interest that i could see becoming compositions in their own right once moved through changes in media and scale.

Shrinking Violets Red Detail

Once the image was processed and I had a high res scan to work with we began with reds and the largest floral like area at the bottom right of the painting. The project became known as “Seeding apples from oranges” partly because my photographer Rob was reading a seed catalogue at the time I was photographing the trespassing series work with him. And partly because I was creating a secondary image from areas within the original painting.

The grant project was about visual comparisons between two similar yet very different media so the project ended up with the handle, “Seeding Apples from Oranges”

Names can be tricky, they can be literal or they can be descriptive. The first test print of the series was inspiring, the reds were delicious and so “Red Delicious” , the name of a variety of apples from the seed catalogue became the working title of the art quilt that evolved out of the process.

The name game can definitely be a tricky one. I always want to provide a secondary was for a viewer or client to make  personal connection to the visual image they are seeing. Sometimes that might be a song lyric, a description, something humorous or sometimes a cheeky reference to some kind of perceived personification of an inanimate object. Other times I have named paintings with the help I am offered from requests put out on my instagram. Kaleidoscope and Wonderland are both recent examples of that name game. I don’t have the advantage of using my photographer Rob’s extensive vocabulary and interesting reading list to help me with titles now that he has moved well north of the city.

(Above: I recently came across a long ago client who shared this snapshot of her painting with me as a reminder. This little sister also grew out of the Trespassing series.)

I know I am getting off on a tangent here but I should tell you that the finished art quilt “Red Delicious”: did end up as a new beginning or a heading in a new chapter of my studio practice on the textile side. I kept her and hung her in my bedroom so that i woke up to her flowing red gestures and meandering machine stitching lines that helped to bring out the energy of the brushstroke on fabric. I have kept the first of many projects for the lessons they have taught me as my creative journey has developed and that’s where this podcast began, sharing the backstories illustrated through these various projects. “RED DELICIOUS” found a home last spring and though i was reluctant to let her go everyone needs to fledge at some point. She could not have found a more comfortable home. Some things are just meant to be. See her insitu below.

The original “Shrinking Violets” also inspired  a 39” square quilt i called  “Shrinking Violet” because the focus was on a singular image within the painting and not the entire gaggle of competitors from the original image.  This quilt happens to be draped over the railing in the kitchen right now??? , handily Its label reads…

The dye sublimation process has allowed me to transfer my painterly signature to fibre without compromising the materiality of the paint or the malleability of the fabric surface. From the leftovers of the last is where the next begins I like to say. See this yellow quilt below shown in context with the original painting.

It is amazing how much material we can gather from a single image. In fact those compositional details are often my favourites. They work their magic and draw me in to pay attention every time. I still have designs on examining these poppers as we called them when my girls and their friends were little and jostled to join me in my sewing room to play with colour and fabric. at bay feet on the floor as I worked. One day i hope i might get to  act on the lengthening list of ideas that keep me at work at play in my studio.

The cast of “Adventure Island”. A vignette from this children’s TV show was the inspiration for today’s meditation.

.Being away from the studio this week, my painting schedule has had to adjust to my absence and put a few commitments on the back burner while i took in the inspiration of a new landscape and allowed myself to be present . I got to take in some lovely sea air. which for me is always restorative. Change is good and travel is better. Let’s hope this returning trend continues. for us all and fills us with inspiration to interpret the coming season in colour.

So, before we head off to take in th meditation here are some takeaways from todays chat:

Colour can pack a might punch no matter what the size.

Big isn’t always better

There is so much to explore we can’t possibly be confined to a single focus so let’s not beat ourselves up when we have squirrel moments. you just never know what magic we might discover in the road less travelled on our creative journeys.

The meditation offers a choice today.

Where do your preferences lead you?

The meditation is a sweet one this week. Writing it took me back to childhood dreams. We didn't watch a lot of TV in my house growing up but “Adventure Island” in Australia was always a highlight.

The story I would like to offer you comes from the small child within me. The one that was enthralled to watch a little show on Saturday mornings. Adventure Island was not about an island at all. For me it was magical and i loved every opportunity i had to watch it. In one of the regular segments three different shaped windows or mirrors filled the screen in a neat row. The trio included: a rounded arch, a tall rectangle and a large oval segmented window frame, The camera eventually followed a route into one of the shapes and a vignette would be revealed after we crossed the threshold of the opening where a visual story would play out. It could be kids at play or maybe something about animals? I don’t even remember I just remember the tantalizing choice deciding which window would draw me in and was it going to be the one the camera also chose?

The important thing I know now that my younger self didn’t know then is that we always have choice.

I chose recently to read a book I was gifted, “Flower Diary” by Molly Peacock, “In which artist Mary Hiester Reid paints, travels, marries and opens a door”. I found her life and work fascinating and the book to be compelling and beautifully written. The journeys we take both real and imagined tend to take us to new experiences. Molly Peacock wrote of Mary Heister Reid at one point in her journey.. “ Paris life seemed to allow Mary, as if in a fairy tale, to pass through a mirror into her own ambition”

I love that concept. I’d like to try to marry that idea with Adventure Island’s row of windows to take us on a contemplative journey of our own in the meditation. This week’s meditation begins at in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen and find something that resonates for you in the process.

Relative context. If you are visual like me context can be helpful. Here is the Shrinking Violet Quilt slung over my side fence. The image was generated by scanning the painting SHRINKING VIOLETS at high resolution and then used a process called DYE SUBLIMATION. The original painting is tiny but technology allows me to enlarge and source compositional seeds for use in new work in textiles.

Finding presence wherever we are is the name of the game.

You know I love to view life in the details. This little vignette shows the pause I took while uploading this blogpost in the Donnington Garden on Vancouver Island. I will imagine this sweet little spot with the mighty visual impact in winters to come.

At the studio this week my time has been disrupted by an absence. I got to travel to the west coast to participate in a Textile exhibit on beautiful Vancouver Island . Here we assembled 55 textile art pieces from 6 Textile artists created over a 20 year association.

Seeing completed art works hung in a complex series of spaces set in a magnificent 5 acres of permaculture garden was gratifying, Equally impressive was watching the reactions of visitors. The connections we make through creativity and colour are always a highlight for me. I am endlessly surprised how creativity creates a narrative that connects my stories to yours and yours to mine. For anyone listening in who attended Articulation’s Donnington Show, “Art in the Garden”, by invitation, thank you for your interest and enthusiasm. It was a lovely event.

This snapshot came to me from a friend on her travels. It seems i don’t need to trespass to find inspiration :)

We have come to the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on apple podcasts . You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

All best, Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

BREEZE AT BAY
Be my guest in this episode at the edge of Lake Winnipeg where a breeze at the waters edge on the prairie keeps everything in motion. Inspiration is refreshing and today invites us on a journey through composition and colour.
An incidental green space where vegetation is allowed to wander and stray is always a favourite of mine. This one forms a billowing grassy vista that frames the view and inspires the painter within.
Incidentally we take a backward glance to the era of muscle cars and poodle skirts in search of summertime amusements. You may not be able to ride the moonlight express anywhere soon but The painting BREEZE AT BAY, 24” x 48”, 2014 might help you to reflect on the idea of motion described by the action of a loaded brush in acrylic, the challenge of rules and new roles for underpainting.
Travel in real time inspires curiosity and takes us on a journey through a blossoming landscape at the beginning of a new season.

The meditation begins at 9:40 In the recording in unfamiliar terrain. Here we find refreshment after a spring rainfall and accept the invitation to pause for a reflective moment. I hope you’ll join me to travel a curious path where we embrace the maternal energy of a former local in a Victorian oasis.

BREEZE AT BAY, 24” x 48”, Acrylic on panel, 2014

Heading back to the beach on the first long weekend of the season puts me in mind of a painting that lives in our guest room. The guest room is also home to my computer so the guest bed makes a handy place to spread out my written thoughts for a literal cut and paste I am low tech but I’m ok with that. During covid it hasn’t seen too many visitors so it has pretty much evolved into my home office. On nights when I can’t sleep I have found myself under the covers reading and waking up to the “Breeze at Bay” from a different perspective. I recommend it actually, not the insomnia or stints  in the guest room specifically but taking a look at the art in your home from a different viewpoint now and again. Its easy to become blind to the gems around us when they are so familiar we don’t really see them.

An early work in acrylic and chalk pastel on paper from 2002. This was part of a series that sought to find the colour in an emerging spring landscape. The frozen ponds get a hint of aqua that heralds the beginning of the spring melt. Its a colour I long to see after a long winter of white and grey. It shares the energy of a prairie “breeze”, though breeze might be too gentle a term for this time of year?

So, back to the beach where this painting began…We have chatted before about Candian’s and their attachment to place, particularly seasonal places, I get it now and i am totally trained by the seasonal changes and the rhythms and routines we have developed around the weather here. Sometimes the weather is accomodating and sometimes its full on warfare between the weather and our plans or intentions but whatever it is the best advice i have received to date is to pack your layers and be open to what comes at you. My other strategy is my studio which has long been my secret or not so secret antidote to the challenges of weather., particularly in the winter.

The painting I want to chat about today is called, “Breeze at Bay”. It is a 24” x 48” acrylic on panel from 2014. It was inspired by a grassy vista on the shores of Lake Winnipeg. This breezy little meadow is in earshot of the kids summer day camp that has been a summer feature for beach kids for generations a little ways down the park. The meadow also butts up against the road into the marina. The grassy space is definitely an incidental green space. A place left to its own devices that has naturalized with native grasses and wildflowers that some might call weeds.

The prairie in bloom to the west of lake country in the Interlake.

From this vantage point amongst the grasses the view flattens out to the horizon to the east and follows the sandy stretch of sand that is Winnipeg beach to the south. Winnipeg Beach is a watery oasis, one of the largest lakes in Canada that is slap bang in the middle of the continent just a stones throw from the geographic centre of Canada. At just an hours drive north of the city the area is a quaint collection of cottage villages, home to generations of cottagers along its perimeter and surrounds.

I love the energy of the brushstroke. Sometimes i look reflectively at my paintings and think i should add or change something but then i gather my senses and realize each painting is a record of a moment and the decision i made at that point in time should remain.

The region had its heyday as a summer playground when the train line brought Friday night crowds from the city to play and party on the boardwalk  where amusements brought summer weary Winnipeger’s out to dine date and no doubt drink. Those who had secured accommodations at the many guest and boarding houses continued through the weekend while others without specific plans boarded the moonlight special back into town at the nights end.

The 1950’s brought with it a new era that saw the boardwalk and its amusements bypassed by travellers who were no longer dependant on the railways and its restrictive schedules. The muscle car era allowed for independent travel that often ventured farther afield to discover new  landscapes and new places to gather.

Breeze at Bay is a Prairie landscape. A reflection on wavy grassland in full bloom and in motion

The simple composition is divided roughly into sections suggestive of the rule of thirds. Rules are generally only suggestions when it comes to painting for me. I use these preinciples as a visual guide only. There is no measurement done here beyond a general visual estimation alotting spaces as the painting develops.

BRIDGEWATER: HOPE 2021 Acrylic on Canvas 48” x 48”

BRIDGEWATER: KINDNESS 2021, Right side of Diptych

There’s always an element of trust involved in my work. Process is different for everyone. We each find our own way to work and what is most comfortable usually prevails. I find myself often working in stages and layers.  Some artists are meticulous in their measurements, others have a fully formed image of what the final composition will look like before they even make a single mark on the surface but i fully believe each and every artist must trust their own instincts and follow their route through process.

The process i used in this acrylic on panel was to underpaint in compliments or in a colour I thought would be a compliment to the basic plan i began with. A water themed landscape then naturally is unerpainted in rich yellows and warm pinks and chorals in my world. Sometimes my plans backfire and the underpainting becomes a star that i dont want to shroud or lose by painting over it. This can sometimes make my work appear flat but it can also give it some energy as our eyes attempt to balance out the reactions in colour that naturally take place on the surface. Sometimes I get confused trying to keep to my intentions instead of instantly flowing in the direction the composition leads me.

The underpainting remained in the background

Detail of the marks that suggest grassland in motion in this composition

In this composition you will notice an upper third of the horizontal image is loosely painted in a range of oranges while the bottom 2/3’s of the composition features a broad range of limes and blues. The exact opposite of the aerial perspective our eye interprets where subjects in the distance recede into blues and the warmer colour range brings the foreground forward. A swath of darker tones keep the eye moving through the middle ground and marks that reference the sunbleached grasses and seed pods that abound in the physical landscape, describe the action of the wind on prairie grasses. The prairie rarely feels stationary. Even in the winter the wind sculpts shapes and drifts to tell the visual story even though we might not be physically experiencing the action of air against us, and that’s probably a good thing then, In the summer when the prairie is in bloom and the grasslands and crops reach for the expansive prairie skies, even a gentle breath of wind with ripple the vigorous growth and create the waves of movement to this painting interpreted and described in colour.

Breeze at Bay Detail of my inspiration. It is surprising how rich the Prairie is in micro ecosystems. The resilience of these fragile species never fails to astound me. Infinite inspiration right here at my feet.

It has often been remarked by clients that each time they look at their painting they see something different, or even after a considerable time they realize something new has appeared that stands out for them. Often it is the way the light in the room is acting on the surface or it could be the action of peripheral vision taking us by surprise and surprising us with a variation on a familiar perspective. It could also be like my experience waking up to a painting from a different vantage point and seeing something new. I don’t think its un usual that our art shows us new things even when we think we know them. We are just waking up to colour in a new way and surrendering to the visual journey planned and unplanned by the creator.

You know I love to view life in the details. This little vignette shows that less can definitely be more and that a descriptive mark can be made economically in acrylic paint. This is the view I see while working at an arms length from a surface. We need to take a few steps back in real life to let the perspective settle and allow for the eye to fill in some of the details. The underpainting is the choral orange of the “sky” that i liked so much i kept it. This close up muddles the boundaries where water meets terra firma in the subject matter and also blurs the expected colour story of foreground vs background.

At the studio this week my time has been disrupted by an absence, unexpected travel takes us out of familiar routines and wakes us up to the landscape around us in new ways. You've no doubt gone to new places and found yourself focused on unfamiliar details . I think that’s what i do naturally with my curiosity. I am drawn to see the world in its interesting details and then to transcribe some of that into various aspects of my art. Remembering I am never trying to replicate the environment around me but to take a vignette or a feeling or a concept that landscape inspired and allow a composition to flow and evolve in its own way through my personal process from there.

Coming back to the studio with fresh eyes also has the benefit of allowing me to see a pair of paintings i am working on in a new way from a new vantage point. The absence makes the visual equation on my painting wall somehow less familiar so i am more flexible in my response to it and can see more easily what next steps i do or don’t need to take. This new pair will hopefully have a name by the time this episode airs, hopefully something that engages with the retro vibe their colour story is flowing with.

Studio practice is not only the work of creation in a painting practice. Sometimes studio practice could be called the work of connection. The WAVE Interlake Artists Studio Tour is a biennial feature. This diptych,“WONDERLAND:HEART /SOUL” was on display this past weekend, outdoors, in sunshine and in the rain. In this snapshot they offer a little context in terms of relative size to one of our visitors who perfectly contrasted the view behind her. Wonderland is 48” x 48” x 2 panels. Even in the rain they are cheery.

Well, that’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 9:40 in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen…and until next time, stay well.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

The backstory this episode leads to Tuross on the South Coast of Australia. Beaches here are so numerous they are numbered not named. Shell picking at T1 is a whale of a time and landscape in painting is a journey through memory.

A little golf action gets going on the aptly named ”Heart attack Hill”, with the killer view. Legend has it the brown snake of the second hole may not be mere legend, while the bounce from the green definitely is.

Coming home at the end of this tale we come home to the action of a loaded brush and a new canvas on the paint wall with no plan or outcome on the horizon.

The meditation begins today at 10:20 in the recording and is the longest of all the season 1 meditations at almost 12 minutes. This is meant to be a quick visit so I hope you won’t m might staying with me for a few extra minutes of downtime.

In the meditation a morning walk meanders from the shade of the Norfolk Forest at Plantation Point, along the sandy arc of “Poppies Beach” in “God’s Country”. It is a place where dolphins play in the morning surf and considerable walks are effortless. Join your guide here in paradise for a dose of comfort and support, knowing, “we are never alone”.

TUROSS, Acrylic on Canvas. Thanks go out to the current owner who as another artist offered me a great compliment in making a purchase. She also kindly took a few snapshots in her home to pass them along to me for this blog today, This episode is further evidence that my record keeping is lacking and that we all get by with a little help from our friends.

Tuross is the name of today’s Painting and also the name of a place. It is the home of my children’s grandparents but not the landscape I grew up in, so it is also a place of discovery, for all of us.

A new environment allows us to experience a sense of place with a new and open perspective. We see the unfamiliar in new ways and are more observant of details in the landscape. As an artist i think that is kind of how I view the world; with curiosity in the foreground I get to explore every place as if it is my first visit.

Tuross is a coastal town on the South Coast of New South Wales in Australia. It has rolling hills, pastureland, oyster farms and barrier beaches so numerous along the coast they are numbered instead of named. Not all of the beaches are safe swimming zones so if you go make sure to “swim between the flags” like a good and well trained Australian. Surfers like Tuross because the area can get a good swell rolling especially in the Christmas (summer) holidays. The riptides that prevent swimmers on all of the areas beaches are appreciated because they offer a timely ride back out to the break. The rip also saves the surfers energy and their paddling arms.

TUROSS Detail T1. The ocean is featured in the top right of this detail.

From Nanny and Poppy’s verandah where we spent time in the hammock and eating breakfasts and afternoon tea outside, we could see the entrance to freshwater Coila Lake where it met T1. T1 is short for Tuross Beach 1. T1 was sometimes interrupted by the Lake entrance at Coila after a big storm or a Christmas king Tide that washed out the sand bar that sealed the freshwater lake from the ocean by sand build up in milder seasons. T1 is miles long and a sand pickers paradise. From Nanny and Poppy’s Verandah, If we were particularly observant we could make out the spout of a whale heading south during whale season.

Tides are important here and make for some fun and natural, not so lazy river action at the Lakes entrance which is the preferred swimming zone.  Water flows sometimes aggressively  into the ocean and can be a lot of fun. Just make sure you have the ability to cross diagonally to the sand before the “lazy river” meets the waves and the open ocean.

Tuross has all the recreational sites common to coastal resort areas including a golf course and bowling club. Both of which find their way into todays backstory. My husband is an avid golfer used to the tempered conditions of Canadian courses prone to heavier water content in their soils and soft and forgiving grasses. Tuross golf course meanders over 9 holes uphill from the second after a gentle downslope from the clubhouse and the tee off at the first hole.

TUROSS Detail Coila Lake. The water featured in this detail is Coila lake as viewed across the bottom of the golf course.

The second hole of Tuross Golf Course has some water features and is said to be home to a big old brown snake, so do be aware. My cousins coached my husband, sharing some of the finer points of Australian golf etiquette. The first and most important is to never reach your hand into a cup to retrieve your ball. Flip it instead with the end of the putter, to avoid any unecessary handling of the black snake who may or may not have moved into the third or fourth hole. As well, spiders, it goes without saying there are a few of them that will also kill you and they too like small cosy spaces like a golf cup on any hole. Conversations like this are a great way to get a round going.

The other lesson my prairie husband and golfer of long courses and wide open spaces learned  was to reign in his impressive and not always directed swing. Coastal golf courses are often prone to wind and Tuross, with its beautiful cooling breezes featured greens that had about as much give as your average dining room table.

Imagine my husbands golf ball bounding from one area of the course to another as the over zealous swing negotiated the hard compacted coastal earth. A pinball like action that was part of the original plan i had for this composition.

I think you get an idea of Tuross the place. Tuross the painting is a version of the view from the top of the 5th or 6th hole that were up the aptly named “heart attack hill”, close to the road that meandered around the courses perimeter and lured tourists into the town centre itself which was a few windy turns down another set of hills. The hills closer to the shops were not as rolling and gentle as I remember one very hot day pushing a stroller up and down some wrong turns some years ago.

Best laid Plans are usually just plans in my painting practice as once I have colour on the canvas the actions of the brush and the beginning marks in the colour story will lead me in the direction the developing composition dictates.

Pink trees are not that unusual in my paradigm. Spring is a favourite season in Canada. Creative licence is real but with this snapshot you can see i am really not making the pink tree thing up.

The view from the top of the golf course at Tuross is a spectacle. It tumbles visually down to the ocean and the lake entrance. Nothing is flat here, including the greens. My attention always paused on the manicured arcs of the greens that felt like little alien landing sites amidst the more rugged and naturalized Australian landscaping style. This spectacular view cascading down towards the ocean is the subject of my painting painted on 22” x 60” stretched canvas. Its an odd size because I bought a couple of canvases from someone who had had them made, and beautifully made by the way, they were solid and straight, but my friend had decided they didn’t want to work with the shape. (Which definitely was a challenging shape to paint on)

TUROSS: In this view of Hector McWilliam’s Norfolk Pine trees that line the headland all over Tuross, we get a sense of scale. Check out the two people taking in the view on the rocks and it becomes clear that these are not your north American pot plant sized Norfolk Pine trees.

TUROSS at Plantation Point is home to dawn remembrance day services. It is also the starting point for our “walking meditation” in this episode. One day we had to step carefully aside when we discovered what looked like a strip of shade or a branch on the ground was actually a red bellied black snake.Eek!

A narrow horizontal  shape can be a bit of a challenge but I am always up for a painting challenge. The natural angles in the landscape that defined the boundary between fresh water of lake and the ocean were an interesting place to start the composition. That view combined with the flat arcs of the greens that drew my eye down the hill from the road felt playful. I began underpainting in a contrasting colour so the bulk of the foreground of what we emotionally consider should be green was warm in nature. My plan was to add layers over the top so that the discrepancy between the contrasting colours used would bounce the eye around the composition as it naturally sought to balance the visual energy of the competing colours.

Remember I am not trying to replicate some point in a landscape but instead to use the features of a landscape as a starting point for an evolving journey in acrylic across a canvas. Think of it as problem solving an equation but in colour instead of numbers. This painting plan as many of mine do backfired as i liked the loose results that evolved in the beginning and my efforts so from there work on the painting became an exercise in restraint… which is hard for me. :)

Our meditation takes us through this meadow at the waters edge. During one long ago visit a very large seal had taken up residence among these basalt rocks. We visited him every morning and on one of those visits the dolphin trio played their surfing games in a much fuller surf backlit in morning light. Beautiful!

Looking to the sand barrier from across the golf course. The linear marks in the top right of this detail show the area that every few years washes out. Fresh waters from Coila Lake then merge with the ocean. The sand bar that leads miles down T1 is a shell pickers paradise and I have containers of sorted shell families that keep me company at the studio from every visit.

Sometimes i get stuck on a composition and leave it to sit for a bit on a secondary wall where i can see it only peripherally while i am working on something else. A large space is helpful for this, and not so available in my current studio which is tiny.

Less can be more in life and in art. Less definitely became more in the journey of both versions of Tuross, the painting.

TUROSS 2. Here is the version that lives in the bathroom. It makes for a lovely backdrop to morning routines and keeps the past present. I love the sketchiness of this painting. It captured the essence of the view with minimal marks. For me that is a win.

The second view I painted that features part of the Tuross golf course I am calling Tuross II right now, given my record keeping deficits. (see above). This painting lives in my bathroom at home which is always a great place for art by the way.  This piece has no official title that I can recall but it also takes me back to a place and time. Locals are known to take a short cut from Coila avenue across the second hole of the golf course, hence the familiarity with the brown snake’s habitat. From there they scoot across the edge of the first hole to cut off a couple of sizeable hills on the way to the beach at T1. This second version of Tuross is actually a third and replaced on canvas an idea i had painted on paper with chalk pastel. I sold that paper version and ran hindsight it really was one of those pieces that i should have kept.

Every artist has stories of “ the one that got away” and I have a few of them. This version of Tuross in the bathroom is small, I’ll measure it tonight, about 12x 30 or 36”, i think that describes referentially the view from the bowling green that lies just uphill from the scampering locals sneaking across the course to the beach without hills. This view takes in more of Coila Lake and suggests the pastural land beyond the lakes edges in a sketchy washy way. I love its simplicity and i love the memory it ignites of grandchildren watching poppy play lawn bowles in his cremes as we took in the temperate breeze while eating our chicken chips and drinking our lemonade. Priceless.

You know I love to view life in the details. This little vignette shows the texture of the second panel with the application of only a couple of layers of acrylic paint. Less can definitely be more. This is the view I see while working at an arms length from a surface. We need to take a few steps back in real life to let the perspective settle and allow for the eye to fill in some of the details.

All this talk of memories has me wanting to book our flights. Its been too long. On the home front here we may not be quite ready for golf and beach walks but the ice is off the lake thanks to the howling winds that blew so hard 8’ tall Bruce the spruce has tipped more than a little off his kilter.

Similarly at the studio a new season is beginning, though thankfully, there are no winds to negotiate indoors. My most recent commissions have gone to their forever homes and i am enjoying the beginning of a retro pair of 36” squares. I am calling them retro not because of subject but the current colour story has a seventies vibe. There are some electric acid colours finding their way into the scheme. Right now i am allowing this pair to evolve on the paint wall just because. While its nice to be asked to paint site specific works with commissions  and i am grateful to my clients whose purchases allow me to continue in studio practice, there is something liberating about the feel of liquid acrylic on the end of my brush, piano tunes in the background and a new painting on the paint wall without any plan or outcome in mind.

It’s time to play.

This is the Retro Pair that were on the pair wall while i was writing this reflection. 36” x 36” acrylic on canvas. As yet unnamed but the title might have to have some kinds of a retro vibe inspired by the orange of this colour story. Have a suggestion? Please feel free to reach out.

Well, that’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog. If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 10:20 in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen…and until next time, stay well.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

Art like music plays a role as the backdrop or soundtrack of our lives.Todays introduction to “Nostrum” and “Curative”, a pair of 30” x 40” acrylic paintings on panel, were once given the cold shoulder. Now they offer a little bit of flexible colour magic and a balm for the soul in the depths of a Winnipeg winter.

Do you have a studio? Want a studio? This backstory may be a curative for any romanticised notion you might have dreamed. Unless you are attracted to heavy traffic, emergency sirens and a breeze on your side of the brickwork, that is.

I share a reflective tip to brighten your workspace and add a pro to the cons of my former expansive, frosty space.

We also learn about schlepping, What it means to sail across a parking lot in a brisk breeze and how to safely wrestle a 4’ square painting into the back of an SUV... shlepping. I missed painting this week when the work of art took over.

The meditation begins at 10:45 in the podcast today. I hope you will join me there.

The strong colour story of this pair has inspired a favourite visual journey that rises through the chakra column. Together we visualize a colourful chakra cleanse. We expand, we rise, we imagine and imbue our chakras with crystal magic from head to toe. You will want to return to this practice often.

Simple, energetic colourful, a curative for the winter blahs begins by getting top close and personal with paint.

Thank you for joining me. I hope you find something that resonates for you in today’s journey through the backstory’s of my studio practice. Today I ‘d like to introduce you to “Nostrum” and “Curative”, a pair of 30” x 40” acrylic paintings on panel that we have nick named Em’s Blue Pair. Maybe it’s the Australian coming out in us? Or maybe it’s because her collection is so vast it is simpler to reduce things down to slang terms. Whatever we call them this pair is a reminder of a point in time and place. They offered a little bit of colour magic then as I worked on them in my largest and coldest studio in Winnipeg’s Historic Exchange District through the depths of a winter.

You may have visited one or other of my studio spaces over the years but if we have only met over the airwaves today’s description of my artist’s studio might be all the curative you need to squash any romanticised notion you might have harboured an attachment to. A studio is the term used to describe  an artist’s office, some are large, some are tiny, often they are hobbled together as an economic solution to doing the work of art, wherever we can. The standard is often set by what we can afford cause we are driven to create, whatever that looks like and wherever we are lucky enough to do that. My current space is my smallest ever yet it is also the warmest studio I have inhabited and in the depths of a Canadian winter an appropriately heated work space is worth the price of admission. I definitely won’t be going back to the antique groove in lieu of amenities anytime soon.

If you love the idea of an expansive loft style studio and can handle heavy traffic, emergency sirens and a breeze on your side of the brickwork then Studio 211 would definitely had been the one for you. The space featured all the charm of exposed blonde brickwork common to structures built at the turn of the, 20th century. It had massive exposed timber post and beam construction and intoxicating light. All of this 800 square foot space came with massive single paned windows, that are fine in a more moderate climate but in Downtown Winnipeg when the elements are invited in she gets pretty cold. Like, so cold that my paints and water buckets left too close to a window on an exterior wall would freeze overnight. The frost on the glass in January was not the arc of white spray paint added to the window panes on the set of a hallmark Christmas movie but the real deal that could get so thick the window was opaque. I actually found the patterns formed by frost fascinating and have used dye sublimated printing process to transfer those frosty images to fabric in a textile body of work I exhibited in 2020.

Here are Nostrum and Curative on my very sophisticated photography wall. A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. I spent a week fighting weather to shoot images of a batch of paintings including this pair. Of course when I need them they are no where to be found on my camera roll, but just this pair??? Better images will replace these when conditions allow. 30” x 40” each panel.

About half of the 800 square feet in studio 211 really weren’t habitable for large chunks of time so all of my active workspaces were centered around interior walls that were the furthest away from the beautiful natural light that had inspired me to move into the space in the first place.

Brickwork adds character to loft living but so too does actual heat. The brick exterior walls would definitely have been more useful with the insulating factor of drywall that would come with the added flexibility of being able to hang artwork easily onto it without piercing the already fragile mortar rows with nails so large they were almost a javelin. Picture hanging on any wall in that space required something sturdy enough to prevent the paintings from falling off the wall as buses or ambulances rolling down McDermot Avenue rocked the 100 year old walls. I became deaf to emergency sirens during those years in much the same way that someone living along a train line acclimatises to the noise

NOSTRUM has a creamy yellow section that balances out the drama and intensity of the reds and mid range blues that dominate the pair. Apologies for the effects of fluorescent light on the colour story.

My original studio was also on the second floor. A forward thinking previous tenant had painted the ceiling boards white. This made for beautiful reflective light perfect for a painting studio. 211 was a much bigger undertaking so instead of painting the ceiling above the entire space, when the land lord declined my request, I installed 4’ x 8’ laminated Masonite panels above my painting wall and created a similar though modified reflective effect. I highly recommend this strategy if you are looking to improve the light in a work space

This detail view of NOSTRUM shows my habit of painting the edges of a panel so that when seen from the side the image appears to wrap around the canvas or panel. The client then does not have to add a frame. Framing though, is like adding jewellery or mascara. It dresses the artwork up, adds the punctuation.

I did have lots of space to spread out in that downtown studio and that was a huge advantage when I was in textile mode constructing an art quilt project or composing quilt gems from my precious scrap bags. Emma’s pair, Nostrum and Curative were witness to the unique world of my studio at that time. Like many paintings they spent time on the paint wall opposite the breezy windows in the path of the north wind. There they got to take in the entire activity, they saw mini compositions grow in silk and maybe even raised a painterly eyebrow as they observed  fabric fragments accumulate into deep piles at my feet. I know it looks bad if you happen to wander in on a particularly intense creative episode, but sometimes I like everything in view. You never know what tiny square of a former necktie or printed silk remnant might be the final piece in a colourful puzzle in fibre.

Here’s a little climate reference for you. How cold is it? It’s Effing cold! Paint will freeze when the studio lacks insulation. My former space definitely lacked the warmth I had hoped the beautiful light and that expansive space would offer.

This old girl is kitty corner to my former studio building. The view to here was often obscured in the winter because of frost.

These two paintings NOSTRUM and CURATIVE, created in Studio 211 have been in residence in our younger daughter’s basement suite for several years. They’re pretty adaptable down there and have been hung as intended and sometimes in reverse just to change things up; Covid has taught us to be flexible like that. They have more recently appeared on zoom and been the backdrop to interviews with colleagues and clients. Right now she wakes up to this graphic world and sometimes shares them through the structure of her swinging basket chair where they have become an integral part of the perfect student office in a pandemic.

A little comparison for you. The winter landscape lacks the colour of the physical garden

This detail of “Em’s Blue Pair” adds colour to the indoor landscape.

I love how art like music plays a role as the backdrop or soundtrack of our lives. Revisiting them now for this project has first of all granted me more flexible access to my daughter’s space which has been interesting. Getting reacquainted with them has also taken me back to the energy of my former studio space and the other players that grew out of that creative period. I like to paint in multiples. A pair like this diptych are fun to work with and easy to live with. 30” x 40” is a comfortable size to paint: generous meaning the size and shape gives me room to physically get into it as they hang on my painting wall, while not being too big that they are too heavy to lift and carry or what I usually call, schlepping.

I have been doing a lot of schlepping this week, delivering commissioned options to two different homes first for trial and then for adoption into their forever homes. I love to see my work loved and am also fascinated by the decision making process. “” Bear Necessities” and “Tina’s Garden” will get a moment in the blog/show notes (and feels like) it might end my week with a morning visit to my chiropractor after my swim at the Y tomorrow. Podcasting might be more intense with technology and writing but it does not involve negotiating a breeze across a parking lot with a 4’ square panel acting as a sail that then needs to be wrestled it into the back of an SUV. Pros and cons to everything.

I have missed painting this week

Here’s a painting being schlepped. “FIESTA” was donated to the Oseredok art auction where she raised $1700 for Ukraining refugees arriving in the city. I am grateful for the support of the community who placed bids and supported this very worthy cause. At 24” x 60 Fiesta is a simply fit in the back of my car. 48” x 48” is my size limit before i have to enlist the help of a friend with a truck or rent one.

That’s the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts. It costs nothing to do so and i would be very appreciative.

This week’s meditation begins at 10:45 in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen

The covid university classroom/student office

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

Wisdom At The Crossroads, The Podcast.

Art imitates life and sometimes it documents it too.
Pet lovers unite as today we meet the cheeky cat brothers Rylands and Fletcher in a fairy tale of sorts.
The “once upon a time” of today’s backstory leads us through torrential rain, to a job interview in puddling linen. Then onto a creative classroom filled with pre teens and carving tools and a drawer full of band aids. Seriously I can’t make this stuff up.
We also get a glimpse of a simple example of the colour reduction block printing process. In the backstory we are reminded to

a) always bring a brolly and

b) to find creative ways to keep memories close at hand.


The meditation at 8:40 In the recording is dedicated to the fur friends featured in the pet portrait, Rylands and Fletcher, and to our lovely tyrant, the recently departed 159 year old Miss Addy cat.

Joy is definitely invited to this short interaction where we reflect on the weightlessness of dreaming and moments of unconditional love spent in the company of our fur friends and family.
Join us for a little magic in the memory
We know you’ll be smiling and relaxed after this one.

Since we are chatting about portraits I should probably move beyond my personal fear of them and introduce myself. Here I am immersed in colour at the studio the other day with some new blooms fresh from a winter on my paint wall. Day dreaming in colour.

This week at the studio I spent less time painting than I had hoped but bade farewell to 3 commissioned pieces as they made their way to their forever homes. I am so grateful to my loyal clientele who continue to support my work in colour. Thank you.

SEASON 1 EPISODE 15 Pet Portraits.

 This week on the podcast I want to introduce you to some pet portraits. If you have or have had a pet you know how much you have loved them and how grateful you are to receive their wagging tails or bounding paws or to be weighed down by their purring heart beats at the end of the day.

At our house we have just mourned our 150 year old Miss addie cat who happened to be the most expensive free cat anyone has ever owned. Let’s just say her expenses started with 3 couches but we miss her tyrant ways and her work at home pandemic antics. I don’t often do pet portraits and have actually enforced the disclaimer to recipients in the past who have either received a pet portrait as a fun gift, in trade for a Persian rug or maybe even successfully twisted my arm to convince me to do one, not to tell anyone it came from me. Don’t get me wrong I love our fur friends, I just don’t want to do their portraits all the time.

Today though I am making an exception to share the story of a little lino block print I made as a demonstration piece way back in 1990. It has hung in our living room since then because it features the cheeky cat brothers “Rylands” and “Fletcher”, who beyond “Sad “ the Australian feral cat who befriended me when I had a cast to my hip… another story for another day, Rys and Fletch were my very first cat friends. They trained me to be a cat person.

These two tiggers adopted me when I became a thing with their person. They were named after a legal torte that means basically the land owner is responsible for items that escape from their property. Rylands wore a black tuxedo with a little white bow tie and had one white toe while Fletcher was the consummate Tabby with the personality to match.

“Rylands and Fletcher”, Colour reduction print on paper, 1990. By Amanda Onchulenko

Note this example is not numbered but instead reads “A.P.” It is an artist proof which means it was at the front end of the edition and was used to plan and test the registration. An AP is not technically considered to be part of the edition.

The story starts off a bit like a fairy tale as in once upon a time I found myself in London England at the beginning of a school year. I was looking to earn a living so I could continue travelling through the wonders of art history I had learned and loved.

 I had spent the previous summer on a side trip to Canada with my now husband who had followed me through European art museums the previous spring feigning an interest while he was seriously wooing me. In the middle of Canada that year was where I met the subjects of this art print.

I was able to live and work in the UK thanks to my English grandparents and I relished the opportunity. I worked at 2 high schools in the London Borough of Brent, splitting my time between the energetic Wembley and Kingsbury high schools.

Getting those jobs was a miracle given the job interview.

I don’t know if you have any memorable job interviews? As I was sharing my first draft of this episode with my husband he said “I hadn’t heard this story”… in the 30 plus years we have been together, and I was not surprised that I had buried this one.

At the time I was travelling with my minimalist wardrobe in a backpack. I had exactly one dressy interview appropriate outfit, a calf length full circle linen skirt and blazer which by the way were fabulous but took a considerable effort to iron.

Detail of Fletcher the friendly tabby. The registration is a little off in this print but it is a useful example that documents the layering of colour from lightest to darkest in the creation of a limited addition print.

Imagine then, one tube ride through the inner city of London, England, to Kingsbury down the line a bit and a walk across a beautiful lush green park that became an appendix to the school’s expansive grounds. Stunning, right?.

It was the quintessential beautiful, and quaint English postcard setting except for the pouring rain, no, pouring doesn’t quite describe the scene, it was more like a deluge that erupted as I set off across that park after the train ride. I was the nervous yet optimistic Aussie without an umbrella. Remember the two key words here, linen, and deluge.

Bless the administrator and Nema Ferguson head of the art department who both sat curiously across from this literally dripping candidate. I must have looked like Fletcher the tabby cat fresh from a dip in the Thames.

I got the job, miraculiously, and was excited to embark on an ambitious printmaking project with some of my classes.

Rylands was alway such a chill dude. I am sure he would forgive me for accidentally cutting off his outline.

In art school I had double majored in painting and printmaking but had dropped the prinkmaking and its oil based inks and paint thinners as they didn’t agree with my sensitive system. It was too bad because I loved the results.

I did teach colour reduction block printing to my junior high art students though and they rose to the challenge of the occasion using the much greener water based version of printing inks. Lino block prints are not reproductions but are instead a method of producing consistent multiples in small batches. You might have seen a signed print with a title and signature as well as a fraction at the bottom of the image. The process retains an element of the handmade. Producing them involves thinking about 1 colour at a time and can be quite a complex process. I was always proud of my young students in Australia at Holder High, which side note, burned to the ground in a terrible bush fire season some years ago, where some of these examples had proudly hung. Carving a lino tile involves the removal of the surface with a carving tool, rolling ink onto the surface that remains with a roller and running the paper and inked tile through  a press that lifts the ink off the tile and transfers it in reverse onto the paper.

Fine art prints are printed in editions, for example an edition of 10 would mean ten impressions of the same block after what was to remain white was removed. Next the areas that are the next lightest colour are cut away and the block is inked in say yellow and those same ten sheets are aligned and printed with the yellow. The process is cumulative and continues with the artist thinking and planning one colour at a time, carefully registering each page before the next colour is added. A black and white print is a good way to get acquainted with the process, a 4 colour reduction print is quite an accomplishment for 13 and 14 year olds. I was often amazed at the beautiful pieces kids produced and found kids will rise to our expectations.  It’s amazing what creative challenges students will meet when we show them we have faith in them and their ideas.

“Resonance” 48” x 48” has been part of the suite of large paintings that have been blooming on my painting wall through the winter. She was adopted this week by an amazing family to join 3 other paintings in their home that have also bloomed on my painting wall.

“Tina’s garden”, part anniversary gift and part memorial also left the studio this week.

36” x 48” acrylic on canvas, 2022.

My students completed their editions by continuing to work through some industrious lunch and recess breaks. The activity definitely consumed their teenage focus and grounded them in creative presence.

 At Kingsbury High school  fresh from my Canadian interlude I had a couple of snapshots of my fur friends Rylands and Fletcher that I used  as the starting point for my example… with the help of a photocopier and some carbon paper.

Lino tools are sharp. One of the first lessons is always to cut away from yourself. We don’t want anyone bleeding in the classroom but bandaids are always a good insurance policy. The process of cutting a block for printing is reductive which also means when we make a mistake and inadvertently cut something away that we needed to print, there is no longer an opportunity to create a mark in that space with the ink.

In my example I was chatting while demonstrating one of the last layers and  got to demonstrate humility in explaining I had just cut off a crucial outline I needed for the final colour. Oops sorry, I now have a cat with no tail.

This little block print of the brothers Rylands and Fletcher, is a souvenir of both my time in London and the memories of that first Canadian summer being wooed by my now husband . It is also a reminder of the power of our pets and their endearing way of wriggling into our souls with reciprocal unconditional devotion.

“Bear Necessities” , 36” x 48”, acrylic on canvas, was not painted as part of a commission but went home to a commissioning family this week.

Miss Addy cat was part of our family for 22 years.. Her mother was a stray who somehow made her way into my original studio building. We chose the little tiger and named her Adelaide since she was born on the corner of Adelaide and McDermot in downtown Winnipeg.

So what are some of the take aways from today’s backstory?

For me the new rule is to buy that umbrella even if it is destined to be left on a train or the back of a taxi, is key.

 Linen is not the best choice for a job interview outfit, particularly if you are backpacking

Never underestimate the power of creativity especially in the young

 And find fun and creative ways to keep your memories close at hand.

“Kaleidoscope” 48” x 48”, acrylic on panel, 2022 also recently drove off to her forever home.

This week’s meditation begins at 8:40 in the recording.

I called it Meditation pet recollection in honor of the fun characters who were featured in the pet portraits, for the cheeky brothers Rylands and fletcher and our recently departed 150 year old miss Addy cat, our lovely tyrant who we miss dearly.

Leave your questions or comments on the website or find me on instagram @mandartcanada. I would love to hear from you

Until next time, stay well,

all best

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS PODCAST.

Lessons of inspiration and creativity inspire change on todays episode.
A Change of season might lead to a change of scale But Scaling down in size does not mean we are scaling down the visual impact.

There is a new trio evolving on the paint wall in real time. We learn a triptych is not simply an image spread out across three adjoining surfaces but an opportunity to explore 5 independent compositions

The gifting of art part is not something I recommend but A triptych named “Bloom”f did become a fledgling daughter’s housewarming gift. Bloom was also a lesson in keeping things fresh, of letting go of expectations and walking away from a composition before the bloom is off the rose.
Teamwork is key and this group are currently demonstrating they can hang out and and mix things up, and still look fresh and refreshing in a tired utilitarian space. My own art is on loan in my own home for time being, brightening up one our most under appreciated spaces. Art blooms, indoors year round, though this trio might only be with us for a short season.

Practice is the key word when it comes to MEDITATION in this episode which begins at 8:55 In the recording.
In it I am guided to guide you on a visual journey where we plant ourselves in the present. We are reminded meditation is not a test but an evolving process and that our bloom is radiant perfect and open to the potential that exists around and within us. 

I love how a few minimalist strokes are suggestive of personality purely by the shape they create.

This is a detail of Panel 1 of the triptych “BLOOM” Hopefully this snippet gives you an idea of the loose marks on the surface. Each Panel 18” x 24”, Acrylic on panel, 2020

In this episode a new season inspires change. For me after a long northern winter (some might say relentless this year) I am more than eager to shake off the heaviness of winter coats and boots and get outside in a landscape that is not always conducive to a simple walk around the park.

 At the studio I have been very productive through the long winter. I have been working on a lot of commissions and one of them is a triptych on panel. Each panel is 18” x 24” which is an adjustment from the run of 48” squares and pairs, 4’ x 8’ that have kept me busy for the best part of the last year.

 I find I get physically comfortable working in a particular size or shape so changing it up requires some physical as well as mental adjustments. Going from large squares to much smaller rectangles has been noticeable. This new trio was inspired by “Bear Necessities”, a relatively new piece on canvas, 36’ X 48”, which the client loved but could not fit into her space. I like to remind clients with particular requests that I cannot replicate any image exactly, and I don’t want to but knowing what they like when I start can be helpful.

BLOOM Panrel 1, 18” x 24”, Acrylic on panel, 2021. The gold orange was a new purchase that became the central focus of the colour story in this trio,. I love the way it balances with the pink/choral.

Translating a painting of mine into a triptych doesn’t mean simply spreading the image across three surfaces. A triptych requires each of the individual images to solve an individual compositional puzzle. Together the trio then becomes a separate composition, enhanced by all of the parts presented together. This group so far are a colourful team. Painting them while spring is delayed outside has been a nice contrast to the muted greys of late winter snow and ice underfoot and they have kept me mindful of the potential for spring to eventually arrive.

This triptych might be finished in time to appear in the blog for this episode in which case I will include it, but I can’t make any promises that I won’t over paint it just yet. (sorry just some details available below) :)

Today I would like to introduce you to a same sized triptych also painted on panels 18” x 24” each. They were painted in 2020 and I have just recently hung them up in an often overlooked space but our back door. Painting them was a short journey through process before they embarked on a longer physical journey internationally when our daughter first left home.

 Too much time indoors for me recently highlighted the desire, I called it a need, to refresh indoor spaces at home. This trio now hangs in our back entry way is called “BLOOM”. The name partially describes the suggestion of a garden loosely defined across the surface and also references our hopes for our daughters as she set off on a new academic adventure.

Words are powerful, just like the name of a painting , they connect us to memories, sometimes lessons we have learned through our experiences. This triptych though a gift had spent the best part of this past school year leaning out of the way after our daughter returned from the US to complete her studies in Canada. I have taken it upon myself to refresh an area we had become blind to  and show them off while they are visiting.

BLOOM Panel 2, Acrylic on panel, 18” x 24”, 2021. Without supervision I can’t get the trio together so please bare with me. This panel though painted as the central panel and intended to hang as the middle child, is now hanging on an adjacent wall to the left and right panels. The sisters are .. accommodating a tight space and hanging up and down from each other. .. and I like it.

I have to say, I don’t recommend gifting art, mine or anybody else’s. In this case though I know my first born pretty well and since she had been  at my studio before leaving home and had shown enthusiasm for the trio that was then developing on my paint wall, I knew they would be well received. As a rule I don’t encourage my clients to gift art to anyone but themselves. Art is subjective right, and though you might be a regular client and a big fan, bless you, wanting to support my studio practice with a purchase, someone else unfamiliar with my work might find my use of colour scary and relegate your gift to a back bedroom , the equivalent of the time out chair for a painting, and nobody wants that. I want you to celebrate your art and display it proudly in your personal space.

 If you have listened in before you might remember me telling you how the beginning of a composition is loose and expressive as I allow myself to feel the process and act instinctively without too much attachment to an outcome. These early stages help to get me into the flow of the composition as I strive to cover the substrate in a foundation colour or colours .

In this little triptych the energetic action of the brushstroke is visible in transitions made between what would be the main attraction of subject and  the supportive “foil” characters of foreground and background. In the composition there is no definitive horizon line. There is a definite suggestion of a space but that space is open to suggestion.

This triptych did become  a gift and the trio made their way out of town wedged strategically into the tightly packed carload of possessions. In pandemic lockdown with International borders closed, sending a daughter off with a fresh triptych was the equivalent of me popping into her new space with a bouquet of fresh flowers for the kitchen table. They were designed to remind her this new space would still feel like home and in a pinch the seasonal colour of the natural world might help to add a little sunshine to a heavy academic load.

The timing of the departure probably did me a favour. Having a deadline can be helpful to the over painter within me as I didn’t have time to second guess myself or try to improve them and make them somehow “better” or more literal. Instead I added hardware to the backs and brought them home in time to pack them up with her belongings and send them on their way. This short time frame kept the trio fresh and sketchy, the colours are springy and by springy I mean they are soft and unmuddied. There is a peachy choral colour, it is not pink not orange, that reminded me of her baby gap favourites that make those colours hers in my mind.

BLOOM Panel 3, acrylic on Panel, 18” x 24”, 2022. The gift of art is not recommended. Personal taste is subjective. I know my work is not for everyone and I am ok with that.

In fact, “BLOOM:1/2/3.” seemed like an appropriate title in a lot of ways. Like any parent I wished for her to similarly bloom with no pre determined outcomes to confine her. Instead of giving each panel their own individual title as I normally would, I simply numbered them 1, 2, 3. I am as prone to being lazy as the next person and have been known to skip a couple of steps now and again but in this instance the numbers felt like they defined the trio as a unit while also making a reference to a few simple steps in the process of becoming.

 The trio served their intended purpose during that school year but since then they have been taking up space banished to a random corner for most of this school year so I have reclaimed them, at least temporarily. They have been swept up, literally in a spring cleaning activity that decluttered a winters worth of jumble from the back entry way. It felt good to put this trio into view to remind us all that even though this winter is reluctant to leave there is hope that something will eventually bloom.

.Details from the new triptych on the paint wall

Compositional details , or poppers as we call them at our house, are what drive the viewer’s attention into and through a composition

The new triptych is the same size as BLOOM but the colour story is very different.

It didn’t matter to me that the trio was painted to be hung as a horizontal team. Without the appropriate sized space I simply  stacked them. The composition is strong enough within the group that areas relate to each other no matter which way they are displayed. There is no dedicated lighting and the third panel is even around a corner on an adjacent wall but instead of feeling cluttered and busy the trio actually soften a much used utilitarian spaced and are inspiring a new season to bloom indoors, for now at least.

There are some lessons I have learned from this trio. The first as a painter to keep things fresh and simple and walk away from a composition before I try to “fix” it our clean it up.

Bloom Panel 1 Detail. Life is definitely lived in the details. I find myself drawn to small areas, always.

I love how a few minimalist strokes are suggestive of personality purely by the shape they create.

 A painting, like the garden, is most inviting when left to its own devices. Our children are like a piece of art; precious, inspiring and something we hope will bloom in its own way, in its own time.

 If your children are like mine, they, and their possessions, might head out on a personal journey but home will always call them home… and you can reclaim some of their possessions, at least for a while should you feel so inspired.

On the paint as I was preparing this episode was “Bear Necessities”. Since this episode was published this painting found a new home with newly transplanted clients who were keen to share their space with local art.

Thats the end of todays backstory. Thanks for tuning in to this episode. I hope the images are helpful and that you are finding something of your story within mine by listening in to the podcast, or catching up through this blog.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts. It costs nothing to do so and i would be very appreciative.

This week’s meditation begins at 10:55 in the recording. I hope you’ll take a listen

We are reminded meditation is not a test but an evolving process and that our bloom is radiant perfect and open to the potential that exists around and within us. all best

Should you have any questions or comments please feel free to reach out. I would be happy to connect.

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

Wisdom At The Crossroads, The Podcast.

A mixed media pair called “SIDEYARD / BACKYARD” are the stars of the perennial show in the lucky 13th episode of the podcast this week.
Together they introduce a hardy cast of characters whose cheeky personalities take shape in chalk pastel and acrylic on paper.
We hear the story of friendship as it played out in the garden, learn a simple way to impersonate a deckled edge and get a glimpse of art history at work in the painters studio.

The meditation begins at 12:53 in the recording. In it we practice Independently yet together we define our own version of a personal oasis. Whether this place is real or imagined, while there, we can move our to do lists aside for a short while and recharge, unhurried in the peace we’ll find in the natural world.

Using the breath as our guide we accept an unhurried moment and pause reflectively, together. And isn’t that what the garden is all about?

We’re chatting about new (old) media today and this detail shows the watery layers of acrylic used as water colour with the addition of chalk pastel on the surface. I love the details, that’s where I live. I am glad I invested in a polarizing lens to photograph framed art behind glass without the interference of reflections.

Spring time always inspires. It gets me thinking of my garden which has always been a muse. The black earth of the prairie is a rich and supportive host for my perennials, annuals and herbs. I love to touch the earth, to feel connected to something larger than myself, to be literally grounded in the moment and the action of curating a seasonal show.

 My camera was my studio assistant when the activities of my athletic family necessitated storing my inspiration on film. Much of that inspiration came from the garden and those images became starting points for paintings that often grew in series.

 My intention has never been to replicate my source but to allow the work to evolve as the energy of circumstance; memory and intention converge in acrylic colour across a 2D surface.

I strive to capture the essence of the moment, to describe with the action of a loaded and wet flippy brush or a flat square bristle; the cheeky personalities of the poppy, the shapes of a perennial community, the buoyancy of a cluster of daisies, the strength of spring bulbs or the expansive nature of a prairie landscape.

In my studio Inspiration is infinite, discipline is a necessary constant, and the garden is a perennial theme blooming year round, indoors on canvas and panel in colour, outdoors in its natural state.

Right now in the studio I am working on a couple of commissions. These new clients have seen some of my new work and chose to use that as a starting point for their respective projects. I intentionally leave sold works on my website so new clients can get a sense of what I do, or what I have done in the past.. A picture is worth a 1000 words so it also makes for a simpler conversation when examples of previous work can help to explain a thought, or preferences, mine or the clients.

BACKYARD, Acrylic and Chalk Pastel; on Water-colour paper. 11” x 30”, 2003. By Amanda Onchulenko

SIDE YARD, detail, Acrylic and Chalk Pastel on Watercolour Paper, 11” x 30”, 2003. By Amanda Onchulenko.

Painting a garden or landscape subject  keeps me excited for the next growing season even if it is still a bit further off in the distance than I would like. This year the late spring and record April snowstorms have kept the distraction of the garden at bay for now so I have more time to apply to these painting projects for the time being. I am definitely ready to play in the dirt though. I love the garden, all gardens. I love the little incidental green spaces in urban and suburban environments. Some might call the plants that grow there weeds, weeds might be a little harsh. But I do I love to see plants thrive in challenging circumstances. That’s probably why in Canada I have been so enamored with the perennials and biennials I experience here in my northern backyard.

When I first came to Canada my novice attempts to break soil in our zone 3 backyard involved the rescuing of hardware store packages of bulbs and bare roots that I tossed casually into a neglected triangular garden bed, and I use the term “garden bed” very loosely in our then, under sized backyard. In the front were a couple of trees a lawn and some shaded overgrown foundation plantings. There was a small rectangle of grass in the back, a patio and a mature hedge of heritage lilacs along the side fence that were a spectacle in their brief season. These lilacs might have partially obscured a small potential garden bed while they bloomed but once their show had settled there became a clear need to add some kind of colour to the space.

This is a detail of a painting we have seen in our home for almost 20 years. Taking the time to re photograph and to really look at the details has given me a new appreciation for these very early works

  This side yard plot lay just beyond the canopy of a gnarled and craggy apple tree that had overtaken the feature corner of our postage stamp lot. The bed was home to variegated bishop’s gout weed which at the time I did not realize was invasive. I watched that semi shaded spot from the vantage point of a small patio table and chair and was amazed to witness the compressed growing season usher to life a leggy stem that burst open with the most magnificent bloom. The stargazer Lilly was pungent and beautiful and was definitely an inspiration. I had never seen one bloom in a garden. I had only seen them on daytime TV, on Y and R and thought they were so perfect they must have been artificial.

“My” bloom was almost too heavy to be supported by the stem that held it safely above the variegated tangle at its feet. It was a mesmerizing spectacle with the added bonus that I could safely play in the dirt around it without my Instinctive Australia fear of spiders kicking in.

 It wasn’t long before I became the horticultural student of my next door neighbor who shared her passion for the colourful succession of reblooming perennials with me. I remain in her debt and think of her each year when I see fuchsia petunias return to the garden centre.

The sideboard last summer. Those gifted delphiniums have multiplied and been transplanted to various areas in the backyard.

I love the colour of delphiniums and their many flower heads. I also love that they are a food source to the monarch butterfly

The gift of the garden extends beyond colour in the landscape to encourage friendship; the garden also brings out the kindness of strangers. When we moved from the postage stamp sized apple tree garden with the staggering solo stargazer Lilly a colleague of my husbands arrived on our driveway with a trailer load of labelled cuttings and seed heads to get our perennial garden started. Some of these I tossed liberally into a strip of side yard that caught and held the warmth of the afternoon sun. Tucked along a fence this little incidental plot grew carnation headed poppies, bachelor buttons, blue delphiniums, yellow Asiatic lilies and a sprinkling of wild daisies. These little colonies welcomed me into the backyard from the driveway and ushered me back out front through the gate. Nobody benefited from this joyful little oasis but me and I was happy to pick and play with it while the larger efforts out back took hold. They wouldn’t be ready to show any results until after a season or two of growth.

To prolong the brief bloom time I took some snapshots from the in and out vantage points of this little garden plot to use later in the studio. Painted in 2006 the pair I painted on paper, inspired by this spot keep a mixed media record of the earliest days of my current garden. In 2006 I was still working on paper and this pair shared a full sheet of water colour paper scored vertically so the images are about 11” x 30”. The full sheet had a lovely deckled edge which can’t be replicated but the cut edge was softened by scoring a crease down the centre, applying water with a paintbrush along the scored line, and with a little patience and some gentle pressure, tearing the sheet in half. The process allowed me to achieve, if not a true deckled edge then at least a softened edge that still allowed me to float mount the finished pieces and keep the organic edge of the paper on display.

 My garden was small yet expansive and could easily have filled full sheets but the idea of a narrow vertical composition was appealing and has been a shape I have used periodically over the years. The finished pieces are framed and fit comfortably into small spaces. I gifted this pair, one to each of our daughters who at the time were keen to see what was happening in my little studio. The paintings live separately in our house but will move out with our girls when they eventually leave home.

  As I was contemplating this pair we were in the midst of what was forecast to be a generational spring storm. Thankfully the storm didn’t live up to the dire early predictions but we did still see snow pile up on grass that was just beginning to show the promise of future growth. Bringing my once upon a garden indoors in a painting gives me hope that the earth will eventually rebloom. My buried perennial garden in this northern climate will soon demonstrate its resilience and burst back to life for its fleeting yet vibrant display, soon is definitely the key word we are all holding onto here.

 When I was painting on paper I used the heaviest paper I could find to try to mitigate or at least minimize warping after the addition of wet media on paper. A traditional watercolorist might tape the dry paper to a board to keep the ground taut while it dried but that would take the deckled edge out of the equation. I wanted to paint to the edges of the paper and found ways to flatten the paper after painting. The process began with by spraying a mist of water to the back of the paintings to relax the paper, I then layered the paintings between glassine and blotting papers while and weighted them in groups under sheets of Masonite and my art history books. It was a work out but it seemed to work out.

Life in the details. Marks made in this duo were suggestive of a shape or a flower form only. Backyard Detail.

The perennial garden is dependant on the weather and each year is different. While the delphiniums continue to flourish and multiply in my side yard, the lilies did not. A Lilly beetle infestation a few years ago decimated Lillies across the province.

 I began this pair of paintings using watered down acrylic paint. Acrylic dries quickly which was helpful on my limited budget of painting time in those days. Having two compositions to work on simultaneously was also helpful in maximizing my studio time. At the end of my studio visit I would let the pieces dry. When I returned to them the following day I would either add further layers of acrylic or draw into them with chalk pastel. The pastels allowed me to avoid browning when wet colours merged on paper and also helped me to focus on highlights or add details or refinements using one colour literally in my hand at a time.

 My studio was on the second floor of the building then and I made frequent trips downstairs to the loading dock with spray fixative to seal in the layers of paints and pastel. The resultant images have a sketchy feel to them, no horizon line and suggest rather than accurately describe the inhabitants of that narrow garden bed.

 I love the effects of chalk pastel. The media was a good choice for describing the plant material in a simplified way while still being able to render them as recognizable. The acrylic base got me started on my journey through layers and is essentially how I continue to begin my paintings in the present.

 Chalk pastel can be a bit fragile, despite best laid plans to seal it with a fixative so I could continue working over top of earlier layers, there was a tendency for small crumbs to separate from the surface. The pair was framed; Float mounted with matting behind glass and they look comfortable in their frames. I good framer is a good investment especially if you are working with paper. Over the years there has been some crumbling of pastel from the surface of these paintings but other than the memory of chalk pastel screeching across my finger nails and sending my teeth into a desperate clench the paintings are still appreciated and are an accurate record of some of my early practices.

The perennial garden is hardy, colourful and always a challenge. Conditions vary every season so best laid plans are really only that. But these challenges keep gardeners like me inspired and hopeful for what will rebloom in the following season. This is the bunkhouse at the cottage, where we host the WAVE Interlake Artists Studio Tour twice annually and also where I paint and create while away from my city studio. I love the lake and i love tinkering in my lake garden.

 Some of the lessons I learned from this pair:

 Process is personal and though we are always evolving there are some aspects of each new chapter that stay with us as we grow. For me the use of one colour at a time has helped me to avid blending clear colour down to neutrals.

Framing is an investment especially for works on paper and definitely worth doing properly.

The perennial garden will return each year no matter how later the last spring snow storm barrels through. Each year it will show a little differently depending on the seasonal conditions and the amount of attention or neglect it receives. Surprisingly perennials are sometimes best left to their own devices.

 Our cottage garden has been the beneficiary of my time in recent years but the delphiniums in that sunny patch of side yard have multiplied and make a spectacular leggy show without or despite my efforts each year.

 Chalk pastel still makes my teeth grate; it’s even hard to type a description of it without the memory of chalky teeth and my face instinctively twisting itself into a sour taste in response.

 There is no such thing as a trespasser in my yard, just friends we are yet to meet.

Should you find yourself in my neighborhood please know I am always happy to spread the garden joy by sharing cuttings and seeds in the example of our friends who arrived on the driveway of our new home, and my former neighbor, who shared their knowledge and generosity with me as I will, in turn, with you.

As a final note in this the lucky 13th episode, it is good to remember that in life as in art: friendships, plants and pastimes, will all continue to evolve and to grow, with and without our help and encouragement.

This week’s meditation begins at in the recording.

I will add the new link below when the episode is live but in case you stop by ahead of that you can feel free to google “wisdom at the crossroads podcast” with amanda Onchulenko, Season 1 Episode 13: “BACVKYARD/ SIDEYARD”

Leave your questions or comments on the website or find me on instagram @mandartcanada. I would love to hear from you

Until next time, stay well,

all best

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS, The Podcast.

This week on the podcast we are introduced to a “Cocktail Hour” that is a welcome treat at any time of the day or night. “Strawberry Margarita” is one of the 4 Players in a 2004 Mixed media series on paper that gives us a colourful take on a winter subject .

Welcome to COCKTAIL HOUR I hope your week has been a good one. Mine felt a bit wobbly as we dealt with a Covid hostage in our house that is thankfully, now recovered. Wearing my mother/ nursemaid hat resulted in limited studio time. On the days that I could get to the studio I have been working on a commission, a process that can often get me second guessing myself. The last couple of painting sessions have seen progress to the point where I need to let a 4 foot square canvas rest a bit. Moving on to a second piece with the same theme yet of a different shape and structure has been fun. The idea of an invitation is common to both pieces and I am working to develop a sense of depth to assist with inviting the viewer into the image. 

There is no snow on my painting wall but plenty still melting and freezing outside in what is becoming a reluctant beginning to spring. Colour inside the studio is an antidote to the greyness of winters end before spring is really ready to spring to life. We can hardly wait. 

“Strawberry Margarita” of the Cocktail Hour Series. Acrylic and Chalk Pastel on watercolour paper, 22 1/2” x 30”, 2004. By Amanda Onchulenko .

Someone commented one time that I live in a climate where winter is a feature yet the work I exhibited was vibrant and colourful with a distinct absence of snow. I appreciate the observation. I should probably confess I have for many years used the winter to work on the inspiration I had gathered during the rest of the year. Colour in the studio has been an antidote to the variations of winters white that is more than abundant in the northern climate where we live.

 The photographic inspiration I gathered way back when was usually taken enroute between the activities of my children, and mostly during the spring and summer when my schedule was a bit more flexible. 

 The fall was busy with new school years and sporting schedules and winter had ice. It was slippery and cold and strangely unfamiliar. I was then, and can still be, a bit like a version of young Bambi navigating a frozen pond for the first time. The upending of my teapot was a very common thing so I did a lot less discovery and photography after the snow arrived.

I think it would have been pretty clear to Canadians I was not a local. I was very carefully around ice, tip toeing around it to try to avoid a spill in contrast to the Canadians in my family who run and shuffle speedily towards it to enjoy the slide.

 I had no such winter association having grown up in what poet Banjo Patterson called a sunburnt country. There is snow in the southern highlands in Australia but I have experienced the chill of the snowy mountains exactly once and only very briefly before finding myself living on the Canadian prairies.

Australia is dominated by coastline with vast expanses of sand and surf. I am an excellent swimmer, I could handle a surfboard but I am not so great at the winter balance gene my Canadian husband and kids naturally share. 

A heavy early winter snow storm kept our neighbours shovelling for hours and the city hopping for weeks cleaning up the debris from what our city described as Tee Armegeddon.

There is snow in the Southern Highlands in Australia but I experienced the chill of the Snowy Mountains only once very briefly before finding myself living on the Canadian Prairies. Life is an evolution and just like Forest Gump and his box of chocolates, we just can’t know what we are going to get as we evolve through the decisions and choices we make along the way. Signing up for the road less travelled is never a bad thing. I highly recommend it and am grateful for all the lessons the great white north has taught me.

As an immigrant we bring with us what we know in our souls so colour and warmer weather were naturally more familiar to me and became the natural choices in my paintings. As I got to experience the nuances of the prairie and her seasons I became more aware of the action of light on white, the reflections and refractions that brought colour into the seasonal landscape in bold and subtle ways. I learned to look and to really see. 

Getting back to painting and my friends comment about a lack of winter subjects in my work, I was undaunted by the observation and inspired to take up the challenge to express the winter landscape around me from my personal perspective

With my focus on winter inspiration I sought out subjects after fresh snow falls. Wet snow is sticky and holds onto the boughs and limbs of trees and shrubs making for some lovely shapes.  It can even be so heavy it takes trees and electrical wires down with it. This we know from an experience a couple of years ago and what we still refer to as the tree Armageddon in our neighborhood. 

“Pina Colada”, another player in the Cocktail Hour series. I love the fact that a painting looks like one thing close up and our eyes merge colours and shapes when we take a step, or 7 back. Playing with variations of the same subject makes for a fun little studio game.

At the time I was planning this winter series I had carloads of kids, mine and their friends, neighbours or team mates piling in and out of my car for school and sporting events on any given day. 

One morning I discovered a lovely snow laden evergreen on the way to school and made a quick turn around after drop off to photograph it before the morning light had faded. My friends ‘side yard provided the subject matter this time so thankfully I was not trespassing. 

 The series that evolved from this casual challenge came to be called “cocktail hour” in part because of the vibrant colour palette I used on these winter subjects. All artists I have found have particular tendencies when it comes to colour choices and preferences and I am no different. 

This group was painted in 2005 when I still relied on photographic inspiration and traditional film. There was a delay between filming for processing and developing that my children in their instant gratification world might not fully appreciate today. Once I had my inspirational imagery in hand I cleared off a studio wall and installed four full sheets of arches heavy weight water colour paper, 221/2” x 30” each. The pieces were later float mounted as the entire surface became part of the composition. 

By pinning each piece heavily using the arc of the many thumbtacks to secure the paper to the wall I did not perforate the edges with pin holes. This process also helped to prevent the heavy paper sheets loaded with wet media from warping as they dried. 

 I used four sheets because that’s what I had in hand and that’s also the extent of what could fit along the length of my wall. I used the same photograph as inspiration for all four paintings in what became a visual game I played at the studio.

This pic was taken more than ten years after the first inspiration photo was taken. There has definitely been some growth in my neighbours front yard since last i was there picking up kids. I missed a fresh snowfall but I think you get the idea that some creative licence is taken when it comes to colour in the winter landscape when my paintbrushes are involved.

My linear thinking husband and I joke about our respective approaches to problem solving. He thinks logically in a straight line while I tend to spiral around until we both mostly end with the same conclusions. (although he is not an artist). His stories of solo play are funny. He was ten years younger than his older brother and five years younger than his sister so neither sibling was available or interested in the energetic games he played. So he became an expert at creatively entertaining himself with complex games enacting sporting events where he provided the commentary, the plays and all the players, of entire football games. I can just imagine him running up and down the side yard catching his own high passes, sometimes with sound effects like the hiss of a cheering crowd, for hours on end. I laughed at his explanation of childhood games and may have even raised a cautious eyebrow that suggested “really”? 

But in hindsight it seems problem solving games are something we share. 

Both of us have developed imaginary worlds. While he may have aspired to be an actual quarterback, I was designing the plays that took place across my painterly playing field. 

 I challenged myself by beginning the group of four paintings in different ways: starting with a foundation image drawn in washy liquid acrylic, by blocking in a foundation structure in complimentary colours with a wide brush, by using a different colour palette to begin and on one of them I hooked in to the “Drawing on the Right hand side of the brain” theory by painting upside down. The painting not me was inverted. 

As a side note turning a composition upside down is a strategy I often use when a painting has me stuck and unsure of where to take it. 

“Cocktail Hour: Pina Colada”

“Cocktail Hour: Classic Daquari”

“Cocktail Hour: Mojito”

When you are your own boss you can give yourself permission to have some fun with your process, because nobody is watching.  My boss by the way can be a hard task master and often pushes me to try new things, to expand and to grow even though I have been resistant at times to stepping out of my comfortable routines. Thankfully my boss embraced the idea of play in the work of art I was making in 2005.

 One of the four paintings that make up the group I called “Cocktail Hour” lives behind glass on the landing of our stairs at home. This painting is not far from “Pink at Ponemah” whom I introduced on the podcast in Season 1 Episode 9. Opposite the front door, “Strawberry Margarita “welcomes visitors to our home no matter what the season. The subject reads a bit ambiguously from a distance given my colour choices but on closer inspection the snow story takes shape and it is clear it is a winter scene. 

In painting this series I remember striving for depth by focusing on the snow heavy pine back lit with morning sun. I kept with this intention regardless of the colour choices or process I used for each of the individual paintings. 

 I loved the shapes freshly accumulated wet snow made in real time on the boughs of this evergreen tree. 

It is amazing the diversity we find in snow laden landscapes in shape texture and even colour when we take a little more time to really look with a view to seeing. I like to say life is lived in the details. When we are aware we are present, where we are, whatever the season, and our lives are enriched because of it. 

This week at the studio I used this tactic to help resolve the composition. A literal change in perspective.

The other three paintings of this group quickly found their forever homes. The one I have may have been the runt of the litter? I don’t know. What I do know is that it was the one that was left over and therefore available to fill a void when my hubby sent some dinner guests home with a framed still life that had occupied that welcome location at our front door.

We laugh now about his early sales model but I have to say seeing art work in appropriately scaled living spaces helps a client to visualize how a piece might work in their own environment. App makers have realized this fact recently as there are several available that make for helpful marketing tools.

A personal connection has always been my favourite model. I enjoy people, and I am extremely grateful for the supportive clients, many of them now friends, with whom I have made connections with because of my art. 

The cocktail hour series and “Strawberry Margarita“, in particular made for an appropriate backdrop to some of our once upon a dinner parties when our kids were quite young. Eventually I actually did ban my husband from selling paintings off our walls, particularly while our guests were drinking the good wine. I didn’t want our friends to decline an invitation to join us for an event worrying the night would end up more expensive than the bottle of wine or appetizer that contributed. These were fun times for sure and it’s still fun to reimagine the stories the artwork could tell of the entertaining interactions that have taken place on that stairwell landing.

Living with art. “Cocktail Hour’s “Strawberry Margarita” inspires a Christmas gathering of the clan.

Thanks for listening in to the podcast and taking the time to search out the images here on the blog.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review on apple podcasts. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 11:55 in the recording.

I will add the new link below when the episode is live but in case you stop by ahead of that you can feel free to google “wisdom at the crossroads podcast” with Amanda Onchulenko, Season 1 Episode 12: “COCKTAIL HOUR”

Leave your questions or comments on the website or find me on instagram @mandartcanada. I would love to hear from you

Until next time, stay well,

Amanda

A direct link to the Podcast on Podbean below:

https://wisdomofthecrossroads.podbean.com/e/cocktail-hour/?token=e1d363df2369a267872f3a56f5c831e65

A direct link to the Podcast on Spotify below:

https://open.spotify.com/episode/2xiGyTcvL5k2ZqneU3PbQa?si=z6qv4eL9Q9GrIS9f50eHJQ

A direct link to the Trailer on Apple podcast below

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

WISDOM AT THE CROSSROADS, The Podcast.

This week on the podcast we are introduced to a triptych painted in 2006. “BREATHING SPACE” and her three players: “INHALE”, “EXHALE” and “RELAX” inspires us to do just that. As well they are an invitation to consider our home and how art can offer comfort within the discomfort of transition. We learn big art can expand our spaces and our perceptions.

This trio feature a cast of perennial personalities that are a reminder that sometimes the pieces we are meant to have find their way to us, sometimes in unusual or unexpected ways.

The meditation begins at 10:54 in this episode. It is available on the recording only and I hope you will listen in.   This one was inspired by a dessert landscape in the middle of a Northern winter. In it we ground ourselves in colour to expand our chakras as we experience the blessing of a magical morning interaction accompanied by curiosity and a new/ old friend. It’s one of my faves.

BREATHING SPACE: INHALE, EXHALE, RELAX”, Acrylic on Canvas, c.25” x 30” each panel”, 2006. By Amanda Onchulenko

Breathing Space Detail. I love the fact that a painting looks like one thing close up and our eyes merge colours and shapes when we take a step, or 7 back, to create a totally different visual.

I have been spending more time at home lately. I am feeling the need to clear some things out and to change things up. It might be the new season bringing with it a need to adjust and refresh the space around me.

 I wonder when you are home

What is it that makes you feel at home? 

If you were to move, what would travel with you from your current space that would help you to feel comfort within the discomfort of transition? 

A good friend and also a client of mine moved recently and I offered to help her settle in by hanging a couple of key pieces of art work. They are iconic images within her home, you know, the pieces have been the backdrop of her adult life. They are paintings that she loves and has lived with for some time so their presence instantly helped to define her new space as her own. Isn’t that our goal? 

To curate the things we love within our personal environments to make our house a home and a space we can be at ease? To create a space that is our sanctuary, a place where we can take a pause and one we can call our own.

Today on the podcast I’d like to introduce you to a painting, rather a series of paintings. The triptych is called “Breathing Space, The components are: “Inhale, Exhale and Relax” respectively

The aptly named “Breathing Space” both grounds and defines our living space at the lake. 

The story of how it came to reside there is a bit of a convoluted one that involves 2 galleries, a couple of flights and a considerable passage of time. This piece has shared many lessons with me.

 When it was painted in 2006 our family had neither cottage nor even any plans to invest in one, but in life as in art, there is always room for an evolving journey. Change really is our only constant.

 At the time I painted this trio I must have been on some kind of a mission to be self-sufficient and frugal in my little business because somehow I decided it would be a good idea for me personally to build my own stretcher frames??? 

In art school I had the most impressive canvas stretchers. They were handmade by my master builder father who sought the strongest and lightest timber, mitered the corners perfectly and added cross bracing for added strength and support. As a bonus I have always enjoyed process so the process of stretching the raw canvas was appealing.  

I may have inherited my dad’s analytical mind but really I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided building my own stretchers was to be my next DIY project. 

It’s not like I had studio time to spare. Maybe the art supply chain was suffering some shortages at the time or maybe I had one too many canvases warp after painting? I can’t quite remember my motivation at the time.

I had possibly spent too much time distracting myself in the aisles of the hardware store where my young kids could be entertained in the cart while we measured and imagined on one of our little creative adventures? 

However it happened I determined to build a trio of stretcher panels that I would then attach a panel of plywood to create a painting surface. 

Home Depot did not offer mitered cuts so everything was straight edged and hammered not too expertly together Without clamps or a table to appropriately brace and glue the painting surface to the supportive understructure, I took out my handy drill and slammed those panels together in quick time making sure to add a generous splash of wood glue between the bracing and the painting panel for good measure 

In another life you might compare and contrast my efforts and my dad’s handiwork as the difference between an orthopedic and a plastic surgeon. 

Of course I screwed the panels from the top surface instead of discretely from the bottom so I then had to figure out a way to make this over sight appear intentional. My resourceful plan evolved and I set myself up to disguise the screw heads by burying them in gesso and applying some of my contraband dried gum leaves over the top to add some  surface interest. As I painted them my perfectionist self felt uneasy but I persisted. If we are taking away some studio lessons we could begin here with the following gems Know your skill set Ask for help And Invest in materials 

Shapes can be suggestive.

Perennial personalities

Standing out in a crowd

There are more lessons I earned from this trio but I don’t want to overwhelm you before we get to know the actual paintings at least a little

“Breathing Space”, is a triptych one of my very good friends declared recently while taking in the trio from across the living room at the cottage, as her absolute favorite of my poppy series. I appreciated her compliment. We go way back and she has seen the colour stories of my work evolve and grow over many chapters.

The poppy has been a perennial favorite of mine from the earliest days of studio practice. They are my bread and butter, the equivalent in my business to the mugs and small bowls of a potters practice.

Anyway, this trio welcomes guests into the main living space and together they help to establish a carefree and casual vibe which is just what our space is about. 

My work benefits from being able to be viewed from a distance as well as being able to be explored up close so a large open room is a comfortable spot for them to reside Looking back at these paintings I feel I was just getting into my stride as a painter, developing confidence and feeling free to be myself in my work. The imagery was beginning to flow. 

I have been asked in the past why the poppy? Well as a vehicle for colour the poppy is happy to do the compositional heavy lifting. As a shape the poppy, solo or in community offers both diversity and uniformity which I find appealing. I also love their personified personalities that can add another narrative thread for myself and the viewer to pick up on in the experience of the painting. The poppy grows on every continent, has a cultural or symbolic connection to so many. For me they are fragile, and delicate yet they are also strong and resilient.

 After Art School I travelled to Europe to experience the art history I had studied. On day one during a roadhouse stop we tumbled out of the tour bus where on the side of the gravel shoulder I gathered a handful of miniature stray poppy blooms. Their playful faces and serious symbolism has stayed with me along with those memories of that enlightening and life changing journey .

Life in the details. Check out the life altering screws right here

These screws are particularly visible, but also a great reminder to invest in materials and to invest in ourselves. WE are surely worth it.

 The semi abstracted landscape that is “Breathing Space”, combines with a floral foreground that is more suggestive than naturalistic or representational. The composition describes a sense of a breeze across the three panels.

 If you are not from the prairies you have got to know that without hills the wind can get up to speed in all seasons pretty quickly here. That breezy sentiment is described by a sense of movement within the composition that leads the viewer into and through the image.

The colour story uses a lot of my favorite colour friends with an emphasis on sun bleached limes and creamy lemons Brushstrokes are confident and mostly made with a square ended brush and unlike some works the horizon line rests in the boundary that defines the upper third of the composition Instinctively I referred to the “Golden Mean” or the simplified versions that is the rule of thirds in my work. I use these compositional devises regularly but not rigidly. Being a little off can sometimes be the feature that enlivens the 2D surface.

Structure is important to me and that might be a good word to add in under lesson 4 The addition of diagonal features, sometimes as simple as a trail of barely there marks flowing in a single direction, will be enough information for the eye to gather and read as part of a visual sentence. The panels flowed together and were finished at about the same time as I received an invitation from a Toronto gallery to join their organization. Messaging was a little vague but I accepted the invitation and packaged up the fresh work. I was definitely excited about the potential collaboration. The gallery loved the imagery but they were concerned about the inclusions in the paintings surface, my resourceful screw head concealing eucalyptus leaves became a liability which resulted in the triptych being returned.

This was disappointing obviously and a reminder to know my skill set and to direct my attention there. Carpentry was not my forte and my frugal choose turner out to be an expensive one 

“Breathing Space” Relaxed v view from the couch

Once home, the journey of this trio continued to a local gallery who had sold several recent paintings of mine in the past, though they did tend to favour individual compositions and might have been known to sell the centre panel of a triptych first. 

If I had been wearing my business hat more often than my mother, driver, ringette, volleyball, soccer and hockey supporter caps, I might have noticed the lack of movement on this group. 

By chance, quite some time later, I learned the trio had been trapped in a storage room and decided the cottage would be a more appropriate caretaker. My records being what they were I was grateful I had inscribed the titles on the back of the stretchers. Rediscovering the Title seemed somehow appropriate;  “Breathing Space: Inhale, Exhale, Relax” Could a title be any more perfect for this trio and their new role? The universe may have invited them on a journey down the road less travelled but the final destination was the right one and we love them just where they are, screw heads, gum leaves and all. 

 Thanks for joining me in the backstory…for tuning in to discover “BREATHING SPACE”. I hope you are finding something of your story within mine in listening in to the podcast, or catching up on the images through this blog.

If my work or words inspire you please consider sharing the podcast with a friend or writing a review. You can listen to the full episode anywhere you get your podcasts.

This week’s meditation begins at 12:44 in the recording.

I will add the new link below when the episode is live but in case you stop by ahead of that you can feel free to google “wisdom at the crossroads podcast” with amanda Onchulenko, Season 1 Episode 11: “BREATHING SPACE”

Leave your questions or comments on the website or find me on instagram @mandartcanada. I would love to hear from you

Until next time, stay well,

all best

Amanda

Apple Trailer - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/wisdom-at-the-crossroads-trailer/id1609992256?i=1000551067035

This is an early winter pic of our “goodwill cottage”. This winter the snowbanks reached the bottom of the windows here. No wonder we need colour in our interior environments.