To Call Myself Beloved

I have decided that this will be the title of my new show. It is a line from the Raymond Carver poem ‘Late Fragment’

Late Fragment

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

I relate to this poem in so many ways, as I am sure that you all do as well.

I can definitely call myself beloved. Beloved, always, by my parents, beloved by my husband and children.
The one thing that I haven’t always been able to say is ‘beloved by myself’. To love myself enough to create. To love myself enough to allow those negative voices to dissolve away and become insignificant whispers. The greatest gift I could ever have allowed myself. To be whole. To stop wondering what if ? To stop dreaming and start doing.
I am so happy that I now can call myself beloved. I am grateful every single day.

The Felted Crown ( Even So)

6″x12″ Mixed media painting on clayboard

My friend Trish Walker made this felted crown for my daughter Imogen. It was so beautiful I wanted to take a picture of it to send to my Mum. The photo made me want to paint it . So here you have it.

Imogen wearing a crown reminded me of a funny story from when I was a kid.

As you probably know, I grew up living in a large three-story boarding house in front of a castle. The castle was a tourist attraction/ music conservatory that took donations for admission. I think they now charge upward of $10, but this was a simpler time, a time when a nine-year old kid could go in and explore without being promptly escorted back out by an adult.

One evening, supper came and I was nowhere to be found.
My Dad went looking for me and after asking the students working at the castle if they had seen me, he was directed to the top castle turret. There, he found me in my summer shorts, tank top, long Adidas sock and runners. A rhinestone tiara was perched on my head as I waved regally, greeting each American tourist as they climbed the old oak staircase.

I remember my Dad couldn’t hide the smile on his face and looking back, I am sure he was less than pleased to be running around looking for me after making dinner for twenty people, but he didn’t get mad at me.
I guess my Dad knew that a princess has got to do what she has got to do and you just don’t mess with that.

Thanks Dad, for always seeing the princess in me, simply accepting it and not seeing it as a flaw.

Christmas 2009 … great success

Wonderful dinner this year.
Enjoyed by all.
Dress?
Optional.

Making A Mark Awards 2009

Hey everyone, I got nominated for Making A Mark Awards 2009: Nominations for the best picture (portrait/figures)
You can check it out here and a vote for me wouldn’t hurt either (ha!):
http://makingamark.blogspot.com/2009/12/making-mark-awards-2009-nominations-for.html

Hope you are all having an amazing holiday! Lots of love and warm wishes,

Maria

Christmas, tis NOT the painting season …arg

Things have slowed for me. Christmas baking, shopping and wrapping are taking their toll on my studio time.

We went to the mall tonight to see Santa. He must be the real deal! I mean come on!
He was so great, he sat and chatted with the girls. This picture was pre chat, which I am glad because as the conversation went on, Scarlett got grimmer and grimmer until I thought she was going to cry. Perhaps it was the guilty realization that she has not exactly been on her best behaviour the last few days. In the end she sheepishly took her candy cane and slunk away.
I would just love to know what she was thinking! Perhaps she really was feeling a little guilty or perhaps she was wondering if she had succeeded in fooling the old guy. I can’t be sure.

New painting that is slowly moving forward:

The Wallflower

10″x30″ mixed media on paper covered canvas, Red sides 1.75″ deep.

She is starting to blend into the wall. There and not there. Like all of us I guess.

Sometimes I am there and not there when I am with my kids and I hate that. In fact, I can honestly say, lately, especially this time of year, it is more often than not. Thinking about all the things I am supposed to be doing while I am giving them a bath, or driving with then in the back seat. They are chattering away. Am I listening to those beautiful tiny voices? Am I drinking in their innocence, their wonder, those hysterically funny mispronounced words or lyrics to a song. Am I letting this stupid commercial, greedy, GREEDY, holiday rob me of this? It makes me ill to think that. It makes me cry when I think about how fleeting this time is. It makes my heart ache. I have a lot of heart ache today. As I am writing, my eyes are on the verge of pooling over. Maybe I am just tired. Tiny three year old feet logged into your back while you are trying to sleep can do that, and I guess now that I think about it, can definitely keep you in the moment. Sharp stabbing pain is funny like that, it is hard to think of anything else.

I think that I am trying to mortalize this woman of the past. Stop her from blending into the wallpaper and be forgotten. She is becoming a ghost to me. She is haunting me. No one wants to be forgotten, in life or after life. The wallpaper is sometimes more memorable and it can often last longer.

Not Just Yet

6″x8″ mixed media on paper covered canvas

Almost threw the kitchen sink in on this one. We are talking paper covered canvas, collage work with my lino cut print, plus all the usual (ink, pencil, acrylic, pastel, tissue paper, acrylic medium) AND a little experimentation with encaustic as well.
UH HUH! I think I needs to get me a hot plate! (Then it really will look like the mad scientist’s lab!)

In Progress, In Progress, In Progress

These are what I have been working o this week. I am starting to feel like a mad scientist with a little crazy on the side.

First Blush

9″x12″ mixed media painting on canvas

maria@mariapacewynters.com

St Aggie’s ‘84

This is the link to my husband’s new blog. He is writing a new musical. It should be a fun ride! Pop by and tell him I say ‘hello’, as we never see each other any more! HA!
St Aggie’s ‘84