abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | panes

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Well, damn. Back in the grief boat again. Or in a bathtub sheltering from a tornado. Or a Cuisinart®. Emotions swirling and blowing around me after the death of my ex-husband a few days ago — sadness, anger, regret, relief, depression, shock. I know this storm. Have lots of experience. Got some nav skills. We married when we were babies (18 years old), had our own babies, divorced in 1987. I still have moments where I’m washed over with relief that I divorced him and took over the reins of my life.

I had no recent contact with him though my two kids did, so I knew his heart was bad. I wish rational thought could sweep away grief and sadness — we hadn’t been in touch, he was a shite dad and husband, glad I ended the marriage. Doesn’t matter though. Can’t think away the sad. We were connected, once. We were high school sweethearts. We entered adulthood together.

Yesterday while on a drive to pick up a painting that was in a show and also meet with a friend in Sonoma County I listened to Anderson Cooper’s podcast on grief. I have found his series very encouraging and healing. We all go through loss. We all experience the disappointment of fair-weather friends and feel the isolation and loneliness of loss even though every human goes through it. Or will. Self-compassion helps, a lot. And getting outside.

I’ve also been getting my paints out as the therapy of making art helps me surf these turbulent waters of loss and cleaning out my home and relocating and embracing my aging self. Often the outcome is meh, but this one felt colorful and a bit whimsical.

OK off to the redwoods. Cleaning out cupboards can wait until tomorrow.

7″ x 10″ watercolor, ink on paper

 

 

 

watercolor abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | focus

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I’m knee-deep in packing, culling, organizing and purging my household. Moving — it’s a lot. And I’m not even moving furniture! I’ve been a discouraged artist lately; my creative focus has been more on writing, as I keep a log of this Colorado adventure I’m launching. But as I was cleaning out old client files headed to the recycle bin (and thanking design customers for the work they sent my way), I came across an unused watercolor sketchbook and decided to bring out my paints again.

The art business has pretty much kicked my butt, and I’m stepping back from the grind of trying to be seen and to sell my work. It’s disheartening, the disrespect I’ve encountered in the last few years from galleries and other professional art entities. I’m deflated, and I haven’t had the energy to try and get the wind back in my sails.

As a relief from packing, I decided to paint small watercolor abstracts in this art pad. It’s helpful and a tonic. There’s a freedom in doing art I do not intend to show publicly (except here, duh).

I don’t know what’s ahead for me creatively or how the Rocky Mountains will hold, inspire or comfort me. About to find out.

7″ x 10″ watercolor, inktense crayon, ink on paper

 

 

 

mural of blue heron by emily weil

daily painting | blue heron

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Jeez, this makes me nervous. My “mural” (really an outdoor painting) of the great blue heron was installed in my marina today. Nervous because showing my work in public makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. I like it OK — most artists are not hugely enthused about their work — overall I think it’s fine.

I was happy, though, to do this. So many folks here in Barnhill Marina give and give and give — keeping the marina going, the laundry room working (long saga), dealing with legal issues regarding the marina owner who hasn’t paid his property tax and is in the wind, trying to keep our docks safe (another saga). This little contribution made me feel better about my community, as so many folks here are generous and kind and giving.

I’m throwing a little outdoor party in my marina Sunday Mar 16, from 1-4, to celebrate and to introduce my community to my tenant Bonnie, who moves into my floating home in April. Hope you can come and see the painting and give me a hug before I head east to Colorado at the end of March. Reach out to me if you need more info.

4′ x 4′ mural paint on board

 

 

 

painting of figure by emily weil

daily painting | norman

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I so enjoyed the figure drawing group last night at Frank Bette Center in Alameda. Hadn’t been there for a month, and though I didn’t feel like going, went anyway (partly to promote subletting my art studio but I met a darling young woman today who is seriously interested; made my day). I just wanted to play with shapes and shadows using my water-soluble graphite. 

Such lovely artists in that gathering. Friendly and fun to talk to.

So here’s Norman. Since I’m in the depths of heartache regarding serious mental illness worries in my family, painting was a welcome distraction.

I should also give an update about my running-away-from-home-to-Colorado plan. I have found a lovely condo in the Rockies and am still looking for renters for my home; I hope my various online postings attract attention. But this is an intensely personal and spiritual journey for me and I choose to practice faith and believe in radical trust; I go from bald sweaty panic to hope and open-hearted expectations of positive outcomes (the cycle repeats itself about 5 times a day). I look forward to sharing stories about results, as I will keep a daily journal. Writing seems to be calling to me more than painting right now, so I’m going with that. Maybe a break from visual arts will be good for me. Or maybe I need to push through this lack of enthusiasm for painting. I have no idea.

12″ x 9″ graphite, watercolor pencils on paper

 

 

 

abstract by emily weil

daily painting | coming ’round

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“The quest for connection was always there in me. Connection is what I’m driven by, and I was lucky enough to notice it when I was sub-6. I can hold one idea, and that’s my idea.”

This is a quote from an interview with Tilda Swinton, an accomplished actor, in the Sunday paper. It struck me, her honesty. She was being interviewed about a new movie she’s made about ending one’s life in the face of a terminal illness (after my sibs’ deaths, it’s a topic I’m a bit obsessed by). 

I am understanding more clearly that my desire for connection has been the driving force of my seven decades on this planet; I am compelled to search out loving, nurturing threads between myself and other humans. Trying to heal childhood wounds.

On this bumpy path I’ve been seeking spiritual connection and faith and belief in the Divine. I define that Higher Power in my own way that I don’t have the skill to clearly articulate. My spiritual practices don’t follow any religous systems and I’m good with that. I’m probably a cliché — as my life hurtles forward to its inevitable conclusion, I am exploring spiritual matters and ideas. They comfort, guide and inform me.

As I do healing work, paying attention to scars and wounds that bubble up, the synchronicities often amaze me. After a particularly intense therapy session, a poem popped up in my email inbox that amazed me. Here is link — click on image of painting above to go to page where link is active (tried to copy the poem here but there were too many spaces between lines and I couldn’t figure out how to tighten things up):

https://sage-ing.org/wp-content/uploads/ODonohue-ForaNewBeginning.pdf

12″ x 12″ acrylic on claybord

 

 

 

watercolor and ink painting of persimmon by emily weil

daily painting | election day persimmon

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Hoo… boy. Well if you are happy with Tuesday’s election results, I congratulate you. If you are devastated, shocked and heartbroken, well, I’m in that camp. 

I realized the other day I’m tired of doing small watercolors, though I was glad for the distraction of painting with other artist pals on election day. I did a few small watercolors of Holly’s gorgeous persimmons but was bored and the work showed it. So I got out a larger piece of paper and paints and Inktense blocks and ink and did something else. I rather like this one as it’s a bit out there. Like my emotions that right now are orbiting Jupiter.

And so be it. I will paint and I will cry. I will anxiously watch news shows and then turn them off and crawl onto some soft surface with an interesting book. I will trust myself and The Divine. 

I’ll be OK and we’ll be OK. We can do this. We’ll fight and do our best for love of country even while being dazed and confused. We have the necessary grit. Keep the faith, folks.  

12″ x 9″ watercolor, ink, Inktense sticks on paper

 

 

 

painting of male nude by emily weil

daily painting | malcolm

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Clever bugger, grief. Sneaker waves that knock you off your feet, roll you, leave you wondering what the hell. I keep thinking there’s a timeline where I’ll be done grieving my siblings. A date on a calendar. Wrong-o! So. I dig around inside myself looking for stamina and grace and hope. And, the amazing thing, I find those buried treasures. I’m resilient and strong and weeping is not a sign of weakness. I just wish the little dog I’m currently looking after didn’t love to chew up soggy Kleenexes. 

[Malcolm was the model at the Frank Bette Center drawing group Monday eve]

12″ x 9″ watercolor crayon, water-soluble graphite on paper

 

 

 

watercolor painting of nude by emily weil

daily painting | drawing marathon

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“I’ll have to reinvent myself,” said Paul Whelan to Andrea Mitchell when she asked him what was next for him. Mr. Whelan was held prisoner in Russia on false spying charges, and was released earlier this year and I cried watching the footage of him landing and being greeted by Pres. Biden; Biden unpinned the American flag from his own suit lapel and put in on the shirt of this newly-freed hostage.

Loved hearing those inspirational words — in that short statement there is hope, faith, confidence and belief. As I navigate my storms of grief (no comparison to Mr. Whelan’s ordeal), looking to what is next in life is giving me little sparks of hope. There is much living yet to do. I endeavor to embrace this chapter in my life with the open-hearted trust of a curious child.

[I enjoyed the Bay Area Models Guild Marathon Sunday at the College of Marin]

14″ x 10″ watercolor, ink on paper

 

 

 

watercolor of zinnias by emily weil

daily painting | holly’s zinnias

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I woke up this wonderfully cool, gray Sunday morning feeling a bit tender and wondered why until I realized it’s my mom’s birthday. She’s been gone several decades now, but because my connection with her was taut and fraught, this day always scrapes off a few layers of skin. That’s fine, I’ll feel a lot better tomorrow, and I’ve learned some good self-care skills which may or may not involve ice cream.

This is such a time of change! In our beloved country, sadly with frightening weather systems, and in my life as an elder. I’m appreciating the wisdom, confidence and comfort in my own (increasingly saggy) skin as I age. And as my creaky bones and sore hinges crank up their complaints, my heart gets stronger. I like who I am more. Such a paradox! (Or maybe not.) The joy of being an old woman — I couldn’t care less what people think of me. Quite a difference from my life as a young woman. This gives me great joy.

So as I continue to recover from family deaths and upheavals, and anticipate turning some life-changing corners, this bit from a prayer and meditation book was perfect: “Transformation does not need to be as traumatic or dramatic as things may seem… change is the only true constant. When you resist it, you create a tension within you… surrender to the grace that is calling you to allow life to take its course, moving through the sadness and disappointment.” I picture myself lying comfortably on that beautiful Carmel beach listening to the waves, inhaling the pungent salty air and letting the tides do what they do.

[Another lovely afternoon of painting in my friend’s yard produced this watercolor.]

6″ x 6″ watercolor, ink on paper

 

 

 

watercolor painting of squash by emily weil

daily painting | september squash

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First topic — Bonnie Raitt concert at the Fox. Wow. I’ve long been a fan, and her songs have been a bit of a life soundtrack for me. A couple of her tunes made my cheeks wet, and her emotional connection to the audience was moving and magical. Though I’ve loved her music for decades it was my first time seeing her live, and she was magnificent. It’s her heart — her lyrics come from an authentic place inside her as she sings of life, of love, of loss. Of being messily human.

The next day my inner abuser criticized me for being emotional and skinless (still feeling it the following day). “Get over it! Jeez!” or “You’re on the pity pot!”

So I told the caustic critic between my ears to eff-off. I still feel like raw hamburger but I won’t fight it. Tears are OK. Let ’em rip. “I relinquish all resistance to the present moment” is my mantra. So be it. Today I am not ashamed to be cooking up some comfort food — cheesy melty treats with guacamole (since I buy bags of avocados and hardly know what do with them all when they ripen at the same time). Soothing deliciousness. Bring on the Tums®.

[Did this quick painting in my Brushes by the Bay group on Saturday]

5″ x 7″ watercolor, ink on paper