watercolor abstract by emily weil

daily painting | red horizon

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Every morning I meditate and pray for guidance for my day and ask Great Spirit to walk with me. Today I am reminded to practice self-compassion, as I woke up with deep sadness. I find it’s possible to hold a handful of emotions simultaneously — sadness, grief, thankfulness, exhilaration. Yesterday when I returned from my studio, after working on a large painting, I felt joy and gratitude. I am human. Emotions that are sometimes jumbled are part of this wild, breathtaking ride.

If I am conscious at the end of my life and capable of reflection, I will give thanks for dog-paddling in the middle of the river with all its wild currents, even if I do feel like I swam upstream most of the time. Woof.

6″ x 6″ watercolor, acrylic on paper = $50

 

 

 

abstract watercolor painting by emily weil

daily painting | leaf fall

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Yesterday during our artists’ gathering of Brushes by the Bay I took small watercolor pages and laid them out on the table and worked on them simultaneously. Then the tears came. Mental illness is a scourge in my family; always has been. I’ve lost an aunt and a sister to suicide, and the suffering continues; mental illness doesn’t run in my family, it gallops. And I can’t fix it and people I love hurt.

So. Art. Getting out my paints, pencils, watercolor crayons and bottles of ink is like going into a safe room where inhibitions fly away and I can emote and play with color. It’s cathartic and healing. I can let go of worries and heartache at least for the afternoon.

This painting started as a sheet of yellow/ochre paint. As it dried in the sun, a leaf floated down and landed on it, so I kept it on the paper and painted over it. Then I did it again and it didn’t work, but the heart shape happened. The magic of watercolors thrills me.

I may be posting a bit less in the coming weeks as I start working on a series of large abstracts. Thank you for reading my ramblings. I appreciate it more than you know.

6″ x 6″ watercolor on paper = $50

 

 

 

abstract on paper by emily weil

daily painting | roundup

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I just read this phrase in a NYT book review and it caught me: “How does a woman detach herself from the Western cult of productivity?” This resonated, as I find myself arguing with myself when I am tired and exhausted from grief and want to lie down and read a book in the middle of a weekday afternoon. Must produce! Must do things! Must accomplish! And the kitchen floor needs sweeping!

Horse pucky. 

My involuntary “retirement” from freelance graphic design work, a result of the pandemic, has created new opportunities (like making art and looking after sick sibs). And at times I just don’t feel like producing anything, art or otherwise. I’m tired and want to rest and collect myself. So here’s my new goal — guilt-free do-nothing-ness. I openly rebel against social norms. Tired old ladies unite!

10″ x 9″ watercolor, ink, Inktense blocks on paper = $125

 

 

 

abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | outdoor abstract

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Yesterday I so enjoyed meeting with fellow artists in my marina to create and chat and support one another. It’s been a roller-coaster week, and I knew I wanted to spend my creative time doing abstracts on paper as a way of sorting myself out emotionally. And, as always, it worked. This simple ink, watercolor and Inktense block artwork was one of the pieces. I’m constantly amazed at the therapeutic value of creating — whether it’s writing or making songs or producing visual art, these processes seem to be necessary for humans to function well. I’m remembering my teacher Leigh Hyams saying, “As artists we fertilize the world.” There are so many ways to make things — engineers build bridges, inventive programmers magically create video games. Carpenters build structures. Chefs put together delectable meals. We all have gifts to share. Another memory, of Red Skelton — a comedian and clown popular when I was a child (loved him, for he had a sweetness about him) used to say that we all have received God-given gifts. The way we say thank you is to use them.

9″ x 9″ watercolor, ink, Inktense blocks on paper = $115

 

 

 

small abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | tunnel vision

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This post may be a bit cryptic and I hope not coy. I had an important moment today, working through difficult feelings. It led to a bit of a circuitous journey of prayer and meditation and aha moments, and I painted this to remind myself of this exploration of hope and possibility. 

I feel like I just went through an extra heavy industrial wash and spin cycle, so I’ll leave it at that; I’m stretched out on the clothesline in the sun to dry and then I’ll cuddle with my guinea pig and eat something delicious. Love and gratitudinous bubbles to all of you.

7″ x 7″ ink, acrylic, pencil on paper

 

 

 

abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | shallows

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I’m feeling goofy-sideways on this weekend morning — fair warning. Does anyone remember the fabulous Russian ballet star, Godunov? His full name: Alexander Borisovich Godunov. He defected to the US in 1979. You may have noticed him playing a thug in the first Die Hard movie. [Where am I going with this, you may be wondering, rightly? Is she doing a bury-the-lead type of Rachel Maddow intro?]

Last week my Brushes by the Bay pals and I gathered in Holly’s magnificent garden to paint. She has 20-foot-high hollyhocks and dahlia blooms the size of cantaloupes and hummingbirds that dance in the water fountain. It is a private paradise, and I was happily enjoying it; I did several loose paintings of a dahlia bloom. Once I took the paintings home I decided to add background color to one of them. As I was painting, the neighbor’s cat decided to nose into my living room through my open deck door. I was startled and chased her out — she has eyes for my guinea pig. The interruption threw me and the painting got kind of wrecked. I swore at the cat, I swore at my paintbrush, I swore at myself. The painting had promise.

So… in the end, it wasn’t Godunov.

Ha. And apologies.

Soon after, I started up an abstract (above). It has many layers of paint and water soluble graphite and ink and inktense sticks and spattered acrylics, and is more in keeping with my allovertheplace emotions. I keep expecting to wake up one day to complete, all-encompassing, vibrating internal calm that will last forever. Pipe dream. Man-oh-man how grief and loss and family dramas stir up the pot. There’s a lot going on in my internal healing journey, and I’ll spare you the boring details. I’ll just keep showing up. And going to the beach.

12″ x 9″ watercolor, ink, water-soluble graphite, inktense sticks, acrylic, pencil on paper = $150

 

 

 

small abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | folsom fun

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Spent a weekend in Folsom CA tending to my great grandbabies, Ivy and Ava who are 8 and 5, respectively (Folsom is east of Sacramento). The day I arrived my car said it was 111° and it was like driving into the mouth of a furnace. And everyone has powerful A/C so you could always find relief. I brought paints and art supplies and the girls and I had an art day, and it was a blast. It so inspires me, watching little kids dive in with paints and brushes without fear or self-doubt. They made amazing paintings, and I made this little guy. 

Now I’m back home in my quiet little floating home, happily. I walked in the door, started unpacking, and then within 1.5 mins headed to my couch for a nap [Note: days later I’m still napping].

And I miss them! We bonded, the little ones and I, as their mom went to an event in LA. I got to spoil them and love them and cuddle with them and at times be stern with them and we connected and laughed and had a ball. On my last night there, the girls were out of their minds with excitement that mom was coming home that night, and I couldn’t get them to calm down and sleep, so I lay on the couch being the tired old Mimi while the girls played veterinarians. Ivy wants to be a vet and my goodness her pretend skills were impressive — it’s clear she can indeed run a successful business. Their first patient was a dragon with a broken arm, as the dragon was attacked by an eagle. I praised them for their imaginations and for getting along so well. It was darling and hilarious.

So I accept where I am in my life’s journey. And I accept my beloved granddaughter’s. We have so much to learn regardless of our life circumstances (and I’ll take being 71 over being in my twenties any day of the week; I am still forgiving myself for knuckleheaded choices made as a young woman). Today I accept life on life’s terms and am bubbly with gratitude for warm family connections.

5″ x 7″ watercolor, ink, acrylic, water-soluble graphite on paper = $50

 

 

 

abstract on paper by emily weil

daily painting | mysteries

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WTF…??? That’s my reaction today. A good friend enjoys the British TV show, “Portrait Artist of the Year.” So I tuned in, and Boy Howdy I’d love to know why watching various artists paint portraits as part of a competition to win a large and prestigious commission made me curl up and cry. For god’s sake why did viewing the show make me feel exposed and raw and like I was again careering around on the emotional racetrack? (AGAIN careering around, she says? It happens five effing times a day.)

Well, a couple of thoughts I guess. 

•  Judges are examining the artists’ works as if the painters are baking a cake. It feels a bit crass — and that’s probably not fair. Maybe because when I create, a part of me is on the canvas or paper, and it would be like having someone say my head was too big or they didn’t like how I smelled.

•  I wonder if I’m any good as an artist. That kind of competitive endeavor on the TV makes me cringe and I suppose I worry I could never measure up (am I a big fat fraud?).

•  I am not fond of the art world. In this country, artists are patted on the head and are patronizingly told we have such a nice hobby (but I’m not bitter). Sometimes we are treated with undisguised disrespect. Maybe it’s because I just had a row with a gallery in S California that invited me to be part of a show, and then their requirements and red tape and paperwork, and how demanding and even threatening they were took me aback (sign these forms or else!), so I got fed up and bowed out of the show, which then produced a long, multi-paragraph email telling me I was a terrible person and that because of me I ruined other artists’ lives who wanted to be in the show. I’ve never had a dreadful experience quite like that. I’m still cranky I guess.

•  But then. The artists in the TV show are producing terrific, inspiring work. And I have talent too, and I know it. I have my own voice and I honor it and that takes ovaries.

Thanks for reading this. I’m mostly working out my emotions as I write this, and you are kind to read my musings. I feel better now.

5″ x 7″ watercolor, ink, acrylic, water-soluble graphite, inktense sticks on paper = $50

 

 

 

acrylic abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | paper trail

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I almost titled this piece Sand Worms after seeing Dune 2 last week but it was too specific (not to give anything away but watching Elvis combat Willy Wonka was fabulous). I created this on Easter Sunday, a lonely day for me, but also satisfying as being in my studio felt perfect and restorative. I listened to a mix of Beyonce and Bonnie Raitt and Judy Collins. I sat in my chair and had a dialog with the work-in-progress, asking the painting what it wanted next. I was in my own private paint world which was where I needed most to be, and I gave thanks for resurrection and healing and new hope — I wasn’t feeling it, but I appreciated the concept. It’s important to hope even when it isn’t reasonable to do so.

Happy Zombie Jesus day, everyone.

23″ x 18″ acrylic, oil pastel, paper collage on stretched canvas = $675

 

 

 

abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | belly band

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Today’s blurb is for Mike. I found out today that my childhood neighbor and pal died, and I am grieving him. Mike and I played and climbed trees in our little Mill Valley hillside world. I spent hours and hours in his home, which had a friendlier vibe than my house. Debbie, his sister, was my best friend, Rhonda was the oldest with her magnificent flaming red hair (so compelling to me, this older teenage girl with mysterious ways) and baby Jimmy came along when we were in grammar school. I think we had a Bluebirds meeting in their house, and I held baby Jimmy and then dropped him on the floor (short drop from the couch, no harm but I still feel bad). Mike, my crush, was a sweet boy who loved motorcycles and news of his death is hitting me hard. This happens as we enter our later years. Peers and childhood buddies and family members die. Their lives are done. I am keenly sensitive to my choices here — to be sad, to be depressed, to be bitter as I sort through loss. Or I can keep my heart open, committing to live as largely as I can regardless of my age. I think I’ll do the largely part. 

[Working on this today in my studio was great therapy]

12″ x 12″ acrylic, oil pastel on claybord = $200