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

 

 

 

painting of flowers by emily weil

daily painting | joan’s pitcher

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My mother-in-law, Joan Favors, had a birthday a few days ago. She’s been gone for awhile now but I always remember her day in August even though I divorced her son in the 1980s. We stayed in touch, and I knew she loved me. So when a dear friend gave me a bouquet of flowers on Joan’s b’day, I pulled out the lovely ceramic pitcher she gave me eons ago, as I wanted to honor her. Thus the subject matter for this painting. 

I can’t seem to help reflecting on my life and its various chapters and pathways, as I edge into my elder years. I feel like a freak most of the time as since the time of my divorce, when I was in so much pain I couldn’t sleep because of night terrors, I’ve been a devotee of therapy and spiritual searches and meditation, wondering how much healing was possible in one’s life after growing up in a train-wreck of an unhappy and abusive family.

Today I’m happy to keep working at it, and have had good results. I’ve been fortunate to have had many guides and therapists and healers in my journey. I’m thankful, and I also honor my own hard work and participation and devotion to becoming whole. Life is full of adventures and losses and joyful surprises, and I’m all in and grateful to keep showing up. “Life is a feast, dahling,” Auntie Mame said, “and most poor fools are starving to death.”

12″ x 10″ watercolor, ink, acrylic, pastel on paper = $170

 

 

 

painting of figure by emily weil

daily painting | leigh

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There’s a newly-launched figure drawing group on Monday nights at Frank Bette Center in Alameda and I went last night. Really enjoyed it — great model, met new people, saw a couple of old friends, and played with mixed media. It was inspiring and gratifying, as I felt a heaviness during the day, but I have some skills — I went for a walk (marvelous) and diving into an art adventure like last night was just the ticket. I’m feeling more human and less dead.  

I was happy for the art group and it made me miss the figure drawing group in Oakland I used to attend; it had started about 40 years ago but the pandemic ended it. Great group of folks — some professional artists who did things like paint fancy judges and senators and other notables. The friendliness and camaraderie and joking were a hoot and it felt like being a member of a fun boys club. It was Bruce Wolff’s group, and he was a local art star; he was hired by George Lucas back in the day to illustrate the Indiana Jones movie posters. He was funny as hell.

Oh and if you are interested sign up for my watercolor and ink class at Frank Bette Ctr this Saturday! Go to the Frank Bette website and look up classes — spots are still open. My workshop is categorized as mixed media.

Yay! Art!

12″ x 9″ pencil, water-soluble graphite on paper = $150

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

watercolor and ink abstract of flower by emily weil

daily painting | holly’s peony

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I’m tired of the usual. So I took out an ink bottle and a scruffy paintbrush and painted this peony from my friend Holly’s magnificent garden and the break from ink pens was refreshing. Time to mix things up.

I played hooky from an event I signed up for. It feels good sometimes to RSVP for something I feel lukewarm about, because if I intentionally skip it it’s like I’m being bad. In a good way. I stayed home and read and went for a bike ride and took paints and inks out and ogled an abnormally handsome man who appeared in the marina inquiring about homes for sale.

I’m also tired of the stupor of grief. But my heart isn’t as heavy these days which is a relief. The last 4 years have been a firehose of deaths and family tragedies, and now the dramas have slowed down so I’m trying to absorb everything and make sense of life and death. It’s exhausting. That’s OK. I’m being patient and kind with myself. Takes time to get through these lessons (though graduation doesn’t happen until I kick the bucket).

I’ve been exploring ideas about unhappiness. Being unhappy is unAmerican, apparently — it flies in the face of the patriotic pursuit of the American Way which is supposed to be happiness. Think of all the methods employed to avoid feeling sad: pills, alcohol, smartphone scrolling, shopping, therapy, exercise, prayer, avoidance, sex, denial. I think Americans consider it criminal to be sad. Or maybe a sin. It certainly should be hidden in a closet.

But why should unhappiness be avoided at all costs? Is that even reasonable? Why should I feel ashamed of feeling bad? Does anyone else ponder these things or have I been swallowed whole by navel-gazing? And does anyone besides me get bothered by watching Brad Pitt in a recent movie and his face is all smoothed and plastic-looking from surgery and Botox®? Where did those marvelous eye-crinkles go? I think we’ve all gone mad.

That’s fine. I’m unhappily OK. I’m good.

10″ x 14″ watercolor, ink, acrylic on paper = $200

 

 

 

watercolor painting of cows by emily weil

daily painting | curious cows

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Cows. So fun to paint. These interesting (and interested) blocky-headed creatures gathered around our car in rural Sunol, where several of us who are E Bay Parks volunteers ventured out to the hills to observe golden eagles. Cows are curious, and they were likely wondering when the bales of hay were going to emerge from the backs of our vehicles. They kind of lined up, staring. Cracked me up. Ben, the biologist who has much experience with both the birds and the rural areas we visit, said that once he’d parked his truck and traipsed off to look for eagle nests and when he returned the cows had licked every inch of his truck clean. Including the windshield which, after this bovine tongue-lashing, was clouded and made his ability to drive impossible. No clue as to why the cows considered Ben’s truck delicious.

I love these outings to rural areas to track the birds. Paul, my volunteer birding pal, is great company and as we look to see if our pairs of birds have had kids we solve all the problems both in the world and in our families; politicians should give us a call, as we’ve worked through every kind of global issue and we definitely have all the answers.

I’m an artist. I am beyond lucky. And I get to appreciate local raptors. And I get to teach art to open-hearted students. And I get to enjoy my lovely home on the water and chuckle at my guinea pig Buster Posey’s little noises (nothing cuter than a guinea pig sneeze). And today I watched the tugs nudge a container ship up to the shipping cranes along the estuary with the foggy SF bay as a backdrop. I was funky today, as I come to terms with visitations of memories of childhood loneliness. My belief is that when these visuals surface in my brain, it is an opportunity for me to love and comfort that little girl who was so bewildered and confused. She’s mine now. I protect and love her and we heal together. The possibilities are endless.

10″ x 14″ watercolor, ink, acrylic on paper = $200

 

 

 

watercolor painting of ribbon tree by emily weil

daily painting | box of sunlight

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Sometimes brief life-moments make me stop and take in unexpected sparkles of beauty — like this morning when I was in the shower, and sunlight was streaming through the bathroom window. The steam flowed and swirled and the droplets formed a rectangle of misty light. Oh it was lovely, and I paused the sudsy rituals to marvel. 

I woke up in a complete funk so this helped bring my chin up a little. I fumble around sometimes, feeling a bit overwhelmed by loss or family worries or emotional firebombs (why did I tune into that documentary about the abuse of kids in a Baltimore Catholic school?).

So I’m following Hillary’s advice — get up every day and keep going. I vacuumed the floors. I made some tea. I packed up art supplies to join this morning’s sketch group at the Albany Bulb. “Dial 911, step over the body, and do the dishes,” a therapist from years ago used to say. I’m embracing this perfect July Saturday, knowing how fortunate I am.

[I enjoyed the sketch group outing. Always great to hang with other artists. The Albany Bulb, an old landfill created almost a century ago, pokes out into SF Bay and people go and bring their dogs and bikes and create art out of the concrete chunks dumped there. Funky and fun; this tree was adorned with flowing ribbons and busy with chitting chickadees.]

7″ x 10″ watercolor, ink, acrylic pen on paper = $100