WORD PAINTINGS #57 (Kiva Rd. Santa Fe l969/72) - THE FUN HOUSE

 

So many, many years later I now realize that trying to raise children in a toxic marital environment can be considered abuse.  In retrospect all the misgivings I had about divorce were still alive and well as we prepared to leave that pretty little, terribly unhappy house on Sombrio Drive. We moved to a small somewhat uninspiring place on Kiva Road in Casa Alegre in November of 1968.  At first we all went through feelings of being displaced - confusion reigned.  Gradually we began to bond as a family of four - we were out from under the cloud of constant arguments and tension.   Being together in this house was our new normal and it began to feel good!

There was a large, beautiful back yard. with lots of trees and hiding places.  Once all the pails, shovels and little bikes were in their new home, it all felt real - here was breathing room!  There was an exuberance building in all of us.  At night I would put on my favorite Jim Croce songs and we would all do a mad dance to Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.  We were learning how to have fun!

Our divorce was final in early 1969.  Their father married one of his Santa Fe college students one week later.

Gradually things began to lighten up.  It still was hard for me to leave them with the babysitter in the morning when I left for the law office.  It was important for us to have a routine - times when we were all together.  Dinners and bath times for the most part were delightful.  After I put them to bed, I changed to my work clothes and went to my easel and worked for three or four hours.  The day before payday was our "treat" night.  The four of us would dress up and go to Furr's Cafeteria in DeVargas Mall.  Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy!  Walter Goetz (son of the famous Hollywood costume designer, Charles LeMaire) played oldies but goodies on the grand piano.  Afterward we all went to the bookstore and they picked out whatever they wanted - coloring books, crayons, puzzles.  I can still picture their faces in the bookstore - excitement; best of all, Curiosity.

Each year at midsummer monsoon season arrives here in the high desert.  Thunderstorms begin with low rumbles in the distance. As the thunder gets louder and closer, we know a "gully-washer" is headed our way.  The four of us would gather up pillows and blankets and make a huge bed on the living room floor.  Story books, coloring books and crayons lay all around us in little piles.  This was a special family time.  Often the electricity would go out and the bright lightning flashes would prepare us for the loud thunder to follow.  We would count - one thousand one, one thousand two...the time between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder measured the distance between us and the storm.  The louder the thunder, the more we huddled together.  There were times when we could hear the sizzle of the lightning and within a second the boom of the thunder - the windows would rattle loudly and the rain would pound on the roof - the end of the world!  Gradually the storm would move off into the distance and we could relax.  Time for some milk and cookies.  Remake our beds and settle in for the night. Unforgettable....

We had Sunday picnics - the Pecos Monument, Puye Cliffs, Hyde Park.  The three of them would run and roam in all directions, exploring their rapidly expanding world.   They were babies no more!

That first Christmas on Kiva Road, Ernie went to Baillos, the appliance store in Albuquerque, and bought us a color TV!  Ah - Sesame Street in color!  The girls decided they wanted their own TVs in their room.  They drew their own sets in indelible markers on the white wall beside their beds.  No amount of work could erase those little TVs!  Am sure they still survive under countless coats of paint in that little house on Kiva Road.

John and the twins spent Easter with their father and new stepmother that year.  My first holiday without them was definitely a heartache.  About six that Sunday night the whole gang appeared in my living room - My three "babies", their father, the stepmother (sporting new and really perky breast implants) and her daughter, who was in the process of being adopted by my ex-husband.  He puffed up to an imposing height and informed me that now he had a "real family", he was preparing to sue me for full custody of my children.  Deep wounding FEAR!  And then I got pissed and told them to leave!  In my heart I knew his only motivation to want custody was to get out of paying the court ordered $250 a month support payment.  No matter what, he would never raise my children!

For the first time since leaving Chicago I felt a freedom I had never known.  My life was my own and I was content to work hard and raise my babies.  Damn that man! In a way I was still afraid. I refused to be at his mercy!  The next night after I put my gang to bed, I went out to my little studio, filled up my palette with new, juicy globs of beautiful colors and started a new painting!

WORD PAINTINGS #56 (Taos - 1/26/19) - CEREMONY

Before I dive into more memories of the past, just one more post in the present tense.  Once the decision was made to focus more on my art life, I discovered a whole new perspective - clarity.  This is certainly a surprising adventure!  At the beginning of each New Year I begin my daily practice of writing morning thoughts in a new journal.  Usually I give it a title.  In the past my favorite labels have been "rebirth", "renaissance" or "new beginnings".  In my mind I was always struggling to overcome some obstacle - caring for my children, shortage of funds, relationships, recognition for my work.  Rarely did I give myself credit for any progress.  Usually God got all the kudos for the good stuff and I took responsibility for my "mistakes". The other day I read that life expectancy now is 71 - I will be 80 this September.  Time to consciously begin what I hope is my "long walk home".  Thinking of my mortality, I realized that there had to be another word for this New Year.

When I began telling the story of my first marriage it focused on the betrayal and abuse.  The truth is that the dark parts led me away from my old life in Chicago to the high desert of northern New Mexico.  In Chicago, due to family resistance, there was no possible way for me to fulfill my dream of becoming an artist.  With one fateful phone call from the mother of our pregnant babysitter, my little world shifted on its axis.  Just like Dorothy and that wicked tornado, I was on my way to my own personal Land of Oz....a dream come true.

There are definitely dark chapters in my life and it is my hope that I can tell them without any hint of victimhood.  The unbreakable thread of my life has been my work.  As recently as last September, still mourning the loss of my son, I had the strong urge to give away my art supplies and just wait quietly to go to that Big Easel in the Sky.  One day I had the urge to call my old buddy, Geraint Smith, and book what I believed would be my "last trip" to all my heart places.  Two hundred photos later led to thirty small studies from those photos.  The studies have led to ideas for larger paintings.  Am planning to begin sketching some those canvases next week.  No overthinking.  Believe I am experiencing a true renewal of my Spirit! Another awakening?  A rebirth,  A time to celebrate!

Then the word for this time appeared - CEREMONY!  This is my celebration of life.  Am free of all the competition, the striving.  If I have any regrets they will be revealed in further posts about struggles for recognition as a woman artist in the heyday of Cowboys and Indians of the Great Southwest.  My ideal has always been to "paint for the sake of painting" hoping that out in that huge world there is someone who will be enriched by my effort....I call that a Divine Appointment!

Just painting for the sake of painting is the ideal.  My autobiography has been written in the paintings I've made in the past 52 years...the early works were learning exercises.  Gradually my love for this place overtook my need to "fit in".  What I celebrate today are all the backroads - those unexpected moments of joy....the mysterious path unknown.

Walking home requires a ritual - an acknowledgment of all that brought me to this moment - a  ceremony....just one more blank canvas.... 

WORD PAINTINGS #55 - Taos 1/22/19 - HIBERNATING

Wakened to another snow storm this morning....wind blowing, hints of a blizzard.  Made a great cup of coffee and crawled back into bed.  Yesterday my friend Doug and I went to Orlando's my favorite New Mexican restaurant - enchiladas with red and green chile!  Perfection!  Back at the studio Doug took the above photo - proof to myself that I am REAL!  Survived another holiday season!  Back at the easel!  Planning to put new paints out on my palette this morning.  Yes, I am still alive!

My first morning thought was a long ago memory which I believe was triggered by that photo above.  I was 19 - on a movie date with a really good looking and very kind law student from Notre Dame.  Standing in front of the Chicago Theatre in the Loop he began to tell me his hopes for our relationship.  Honestly I have thought of him so many times through the years.  He was offering me a "normal" life!!!   That night so long ago I told him I couldn't be involved with anyone because I was going to be an artist!  Whenever life takes a turn into darkness, I think of his calm and steady presence with a little pang of regret...what could have been.

It has been my habit for many years to "hibernate" through the winter. Around the beginning of November I make a list of the art supplies I will need to carry me through to the following spring.  Oil paints, turpentine, brushes, canvases, frames - everything necessary to make more paintings.  An old habit from when I lived on the ranch in Truchas, I fill up the freezer and the pantry.  Oh, and books!!! I buy lots of books - stacks and stacks!  Art supplies, food and books - what else is there?.....can't forget Music!!! 

So much of me was lost or forgotten when my son died.  Talked to my daughter the other day.  She is still grieving, as am I.  Described myself as a broken clay pot, smashed to pieces.  Even in good hands the repair is not quite the same - the pieces don't fit together as they did before.  Little by little life is being returned to my body.  In the beginning I wanted everything to go back the way it was before that night John died.  An added burden was trying to appear "okay" for family and friends.  Nothing was okay and life will never be the same ever again!  Acceptance is the key to a new beginning!  

So, here I am - still in bed on this beautiful snowy morning.  Finished my coffee.  Enough art supplies to see me through to Easter, stacks of books, food in the pantry and Music.  Time to rise and shine!  Looked at the four small studies on my easel - planning to finish the one of the little shady lane near the church in Arroyo Seco.   More work on my website this afternoon - working on a new store on eBay to sell prints and paintings.  Haven't paid much attention to the more practical things in life for the past four years.  Getting back on my thread.

Remembering the book I read recently "How I Save My Life - a true story of Finding Everything When you are Willing to Try Anything" by Amy B. Scher.  Her story inspired me to wake up!  As long as there is breath in our bodies, we need to keep moving!!!!  Somehow I have clicked into a cell memory - the paintbrush sets comfortably in my hand again.  The easel no longer looks like an instrument of torture - I am in the process of making friends with my new reality.  Planning to resurface some time around Easter...Life is good!

Digging into the past again (Santa Fe 1968-1972) in future blogs - stay tuned.... 

WORD PAINTINGS #54 - Taos, 1/10/19 - "MORNING WORDS"

 

Up early.  The sun rose through a bright yellow band of clouds over the mountains towards Pecos.  Joyous!  Worked all day yesterday to prepare the house for some rather serious hours at the easel.  Coming out of the longest period of "creative work block" I can remember in all the years I have been painting.  Starting over.  Have likened this waking up time to a ballerina recovering from a broken toe - muscle memory needs prodding - the first steps are hesitant and slow.

My painting "Two Cows in a Winter Field on Christmas Morning" was completed last spring. Friends Doug, Seamus and I had a wonderful eggs & green chile Christmas breakfast and then took a long drive through the villages north of Taos.  I was hemmed in and couldn't get out of the car; Seamus took the photo of a large herd of cows in a winter field.  For months I stared at the photo and then isolated these two in a rather abstract composition.  Finally I felt a spurt of inspiration and I began to lay in the paint.  When the painting was completed, I knew that I was capable of moving into a new phase of my work.  Mistakenly consigned the work to Gabe at Chimayo Trading.  Two days later I was back at the gallery asking him to give it back to me. He reluctantly took it off the wall and let me have it. Good Gabe!  It is still hanging in my living room and I am loathe to let it go.  In my life and my work, the road ahead is a mystery.  I believe this painting is a "life arrow" - a signpost.

Laying out a new palette of juicy colors this morning.  So many pieces in front of me half finished.  The little studies from my trip to Truchas.  I need to get acquainted with my brushes again - my motor memory - how they feel in my hand.  Once it begins it is like waking up to life again.  For a long time after John died I really didn't want to live.  Every day it felt as though I was just clinging to the edge of a cliff.  What changed?  Healing comes in phases.  It doesn't happen all at once.  The deep grief diminishes - except when it hits when I least expect it.  Yesterday when I was "doing the things in life which must be done" I felt a sense of wholeness.   An old and sorely missed friend.  Order out of chaos - the return of purpose and meaning.

Would love to start out with a large and profound landscape this morning, but like that wounded ballerina, I need to exercise - stretch - take those small baby steps of a brand new beginning.  Setting a goal for myself.  Complete some of those studies and get them to Gabe by the end of February.  One step at a time, one day at a time.  

My friend and helper, Doug Yeager, is coming by on Saturday to photograph two large canvases which I completed last year.  One canvas is 60"x36" - "Autumn Fields at Ranchitos".  I want a photo of me standing beside it.  The painting is a meditation of a place near Middle Road.  Whenever life would get too hectic, I would get in my pick-up truck and climb the hill overlooking this little valley.  Silence, calm - a quiet heart.  Small hypnotic brushstrokes....colors of the earth. Meditation - peace.

The frames  for these paintings have been leaning against the wall of the studio for almost six months, the result of my creative brain freeze.  Will varnish the paintings and Doug will help me frame them next week.  Time to fill up the studio again....perhaps my Art Gods still have some surprises in store for me.  Who knows?  What I do know is that one little canvas will often have inside of it a much larger inspiration.  Progress, not perfection!

And more will be revealed....   

WORD PAINTINGS #53 - TAOS, 1/7/19 - TAKING STOCK

 

"No one is as capable of gratitude as one who has emerged from the kingdom of the night.  We know that every moment is a moment of Grace, every hour an offering" - Jakob Shekaneder

Life without drama is a gift from a chaotic universe.  It doesn't happen every day, but when it does, blessings abound!  This is the beginning of a new year - a time of revaluing, reorganizing - creating order and perhaps some new and healthier habits.  (Smiling broadly as I wrote the words "healthier habits").  Ever since my move from the old house on Santistevan Lane where I accumulated 23 years of "Life", I have been clearing out the old.  Half my household things were either sold or given away.  After my son died living in Tesuque and Santa Fe no longer worked for me.  Taos is my home and I needed to return.  Another purge - pick-up truck loads of paintings and furniture to friends and family.  I became obsessed with simplifying my life.  Back in Taos - a smaller house with good working studio areas.  Am looking around this morning and know that one more clear out will do it - some clothes, dishes - extra pots and pans.  This feels so good!!!  It is only common sense to clear out the clutter - don't leave a mess behind!

Those small studies I mentioned earlier are on the easel right now in various stages of completion.  The first ten will go to Gabe Abrums at Chimayo Trading del Norte in Ranchos de Taos Plaza.  Shortly after arriving back in Taos, Gabe sent an email asking if I would consider him as an agent to sell my work.  Mainly he sells his own beautiful jewelry, native pottery and paintings from old Taos artists like Gene Kloss and Doel Reed.  He has lived in Truchas and his wife, Alicia, is from Chimayo.  It felt like a perfect fit for my paintings!  More than once he has come to my studio looking for one painting and I ended up consigning 15 - leaving my walls bare naked!  Without a doubt this is  a good"gallery" connection!!  They respect my work.  And Gabe has been patient and sensitive enough to understand that sometimes I just need to sit and stare at my big toe.  His sales of my work are consistent.  He pays on time!  I trust him!  Grateful?  You bet!  New paintings for his gallery by the middle of February.

"All who wander are not lost".  I have been a nomad.  It is no secret that I was meant to live in this place for the past 52 years.  Santa Fe, Taos and Truchas have given my life purpose and meaning.  With all the speed bumps on my Road of Life, I can't imagine a better place to have live all this time.  This land has always been a source of healing for me.  Planning another road trip with great photographer and friend, Geraint Smith (www.geraintsmith photography.com).  Kodak is producing Ektachrome slide film again.  Six rolls were delivered from the Camera Shop in Santa Fe last week.  Tears in my eyes to be able to work with my old camera with the Vivitar Zoom Lens.  Digital is fine, but there is nothing like the rich colors from that old Kodak film!  Working on the paintings from my trip this autumn.  Now I want to take some photos in the snow.  I love the winter landscape with a passion!  Subtle colors - lavenders, grays, red willows - shadows on the snow!  Planning another day trip - can't wait!

Groceries today - part of my weekly routine.  Lift myself out of the "holidays".  Straighten up my work area.  Set up a new palette and dive in.  Have the feeling there are still some surprises around the corner!  One day at a time....

WORD PAINTINGS #52 - Jan. l, 2019 - Taos, New Mexico

Taos, New Mexico - 1 January 2019 - Snowflakes the size of nickels this morning!  They float silently; I am floating with them.  Thinking of last year at this time - no snow at all! Talk of drought, forest fires....collective panic.  Not this year!!  These little puffs of clouds are landing on what was another seven inches of SNOW!  Amazing Grace!

6 January 2019 - Another snowy Sunday morning - quiet, peaceful - just the friendly neighborhood crows making themselves known.   Trying to convince myself that it is important for me to keep up with this blog and then I block it out for a couple of weeks.  The urge to keep writing returns.  It is a mystery to me....

Yesterday I read a short handwritten note to young women artists by the great abstract painter, Agnes Martin.  I was inspired.  Just now I found this editorial about her on HOW TO BE AN ARTIST.  She talked about living life above the line - finding a level of happiness.  My current word for happiness is "contentment".  Perhaps that is my struggle with these blog posts.  I am recalling some very sad and painful times.  Strangely the sad times fed the art.  Are these writings a way for me to understand how even the painful times led to a greater commitment to my work? 

My beautiful son, John, died on Christmas Eve four years ago. He was 49.  Each holiday season since has been a struggle to keep myself out of that black pit of despair so familiar to any parent who has lost a beloved child.  Perhaps this is where I hit the wall.  I am remembering all the other difficulties, trying to convince myself that I can live through this one, too.  In the holidays since his death I have invited friends over.  I realized that I was trying to prove that tragedy happened, but I was still okay.  It is those desperate, sweaty attempts to still be okay" which end up being my downfall.    It is a distraction and a cover-up.  Finally I knew I had to go it alone and just face my feelings of loss and sadness.  Got my groceries in for the duration, cut off the phone calls and just let myself grieve!  It is indescribable!

It is obvious to me now that this part of my life is the biggest blank canvas I have ever put on my easel.  There is no roadmap.  Will this "thing" - my Art Thing save me one more time?  I don't know.  I am no longer young and not as resilient as I was before.  In all my years of painting last year was my least productive.   My feelings caught up with me.  Truthfully I gave in to the sorrow.  The short trip I had with my friend Geraint recently wakened a little spark.  200 photographs of my favorite places in and around Truchas resulted in about 15 small underpaintings - studies from that trip.  Am I inspired yet?  I don't know. 

The River of Creation - Years ago whenever I felt stuck for ideas or energy, I imagined this fast moving river that flowed under everything.  In those dark waters were all the thoughts, ideas, inspirations that came to my favorite artists - Degas, Cassatt, Van Gogh, Rodin - too many to count; I was comforted to know that their sparks of creation would always be there every time I needed to feel that fire in my belly.  What I know for sure is that it takes that first step to begin again.  Making art is the way I breathe - it is my wholeness.  My word for this year is "Grace" - I have been lifted up through many difficulties - it is time for me to just allow and trust my Art Gods one more time.

Have no idea where this will take me - my intentions are to be clear and honest.  Since this is another place of profound change, perhaps I need to just move forward for a time....and refer to my past experiences more incidentally....stream of consciousness seems to be working for now.

A new year - my place of New Beginnings - empty-handed leap into the Great Unknown.....   

WORD PAINTINGS #51 - KIVA ROAD 1969-72

Once I faced the financial disaster it looked as though bankruptcy was the only answer.  My friends urged me to clear it all out and start over.  This didn't feel right to me.  It was impossible to know what the future held in store, but it was a no-brainer for me to decide to pay back the creditors.  Even though my salary from the law office covered very little, I had received another invitation to the Albuquerque Arts and Crafts Fair for the summer of 1969.  I applied and was accepted.  All I had to do was work my job at the law office during the day and paint at night and on weekends.  I wrote to the creditors and mentally gave myself five years to pay all the bills.

I filed for divorce.  Joe Lawler represented me at court.  He was on my side.  Somehow I upset Judge Donnelly and my gut told me he did not approve of the decision to end my marriage.  We were negotiating final property settlement and the amount of support payments.  I was "awarded" $250 a month.  Nothing was ever mentioned about my forged signature on the $25,000 Los Alamos loan.  I learned fast that it was a "man's world".

Found a house in Casa Alegre which was $100 a month cheaper.  It hurt to leave that cute little place in Casa Solana.  My new landlord was a dark soul and I knew he would never ever ever give me a break on the rent.  The house itself had seen better days, definitely kind of dingy which well suited my mood at the time.  After setting up the bedrooms for John and the girls, I put up my easel in a corner of the "den"and got out all my art supplies.  As my friend Margaret Jamison would always say, I had gotten down to the "nut cutting"!  I was on my own.  Some days independence was my friend and, usually at the end of every month when the bills came due, it was my fiercest foe!

My first bold move was to advertise an evening sketch class.  Bruce Rolstad, Pastor, rented classroom space to me for a small fee.  About 20 of us met in the basement of Unity Church once a week.  I taught the basics of drawing to a really nice group of adults - 12 lessons for $40.00.  Every little bit helped.

The shock of the separation and the move was hard on all of us.  Slowly we all began to adjust to the changes. A babysitter/housekeeper named Mrs. Quintana was hired at $40.00 a week. She showed up on time each weekday morning, however my neighbors told me that as soon as I left her husband appeared with a truckload of their family laundry - she had ten children of her own.  My children also became familiar with that monster, Kokoman; if they didn't behave she threatened them with his wrath!

Ernie was in the process of building his new house on the ridge of Stagecoach Road north of town.  Even though he remained friends with my husband, I knew I could count on him to help out in a pinch.  He would come over for a cup of coffee and check out the fridge.  If it wasn't full, the next day he would appear with several bags of groceries.  It seemed to make him happy to be Father Christmas that first year.  John went along in Ernie's pick up truck out to Pecos. They crunched through the snow and cut down a pretty little tree.  Once we put up some lights, that dark old house came to life.  He gave me $200 and we went to Albuquerque. I was able to buy some toys and clothes for my wild bunch. We had a lovely Christmas.

A solid routine developed for us that winter. After work I would stop at the grocery store for supper fixings.  It was a relief to get home.  My babies were becoming great little people and we were forming quite a team.  After supper I would take a hot bath and all three of them would lean their elbows on the side of the tub and we would just talk.  After my bath I would put on my painting clothes and tuck the munchkins into bed.  My second workday was beginning.  My estimate was that I would need forty or fifty small paintings for the Arts and Crafts Fair that summer. No choice but to work every night until past midnight - sometimes two or three in the morning.  I would go to bed in my work clothes.  One by one three little bodies showed up at my twin bed - I lifted the covers - one next to me, two at the bottom.  Best part of it, we were all together!  The next morning I would fix breakfast, put on my big lady law office clothes - Mrs. Quintana would show up and we would do it all over again!

Just a few days ago I was having lunch with a friend here in Taos and told him about my work routine so long ago.  I continued that crazy schedule and produced 400 paintings that year - small plein air studies.     Truth is it was basic training.  I had no choice but to produce work to support my family.  Little did I know then but this was the true beginning of my life as an artist.  This was my "trial by fire"!