Captain Morgan La Fey, “The Pirate’s Log”

“Pirate Beginnings”

If you know me, you know about my thing for pirates. You may think it started with my “Pirate Queens; Piracy is a Feminist Act” exhibit in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2018, or possibly in 2014 when I self-published “Ghost pirate; the Legend of Juana La Loca” and dropped it at Comikaze in Los Angeles wearing a kick-ass Pirate Queens outfit (of which I have many). Or that it began in 2009 after my Key West 5-day retreat when the brethren of the Black Swan initiated itself and signed articles under Captain Morgan La Fey. That’s certainly when I began flying the black flag publicly, but my pirate beginnings go back to my midwestern childhood.

I grew up in Evanston, first city North of Chicago, along the shores of Lake Michigan, and every summer my father would send me and my siblings to stay with his sister in Orange, California for a month. I am grateful for Aunt Patty as she was a very loving person and when we stayed with her, we were taken care of. I was 7 years old; she did our laundry, cooked meals for us, made our beds, supervised us when we swam in the pool. My parents, who never should have had children, were absent from our upbringing. Aunt Patty was very patient and took us to visit Knott’s Berry Farm, Universal Studios, the Queen Mary, Movieland Wax Museum, the mission San Juan Capistrano, the beaches, and SeaWorld, but my favorite place was Disneyland. I had a fantasy that I would sneak off the boat ride of “Pirates of the Caribbean” and hide there. I wanted to live inside their world. During those early years, being safe and pirates became entangled for me.

My teenager’s bedroom was in the attic. I had a very large poster on the wall that was a cartoon of two pirate ships broadsiding. I studied it thoroughly; there was so much to see. Hundreds of characters all up to some kind of no-good pirate business, swinging on ropes, climbing the ratlines, yielding swords and blunderbusses in a variety of costumes. It was something that took up a lot of space in my imagination. As a budding artist, I copied many of those pirate characters and practiced drawing ships. With my parents’ divorce, it was a safe place I could disappear to.

In 1992, based on my expression as an artist, I developed Visual Journaling as a tool for self-expression. In the late 90’s to 2000’s I taught at Paper Craft Conventions around the country such as Art Continuum, Journalfest and Artwerx in Canada. I based most of my all-day workshops on themes to unify the assignments. They may be organized by place or time of year, such as a book of enchantments or a Grimoire for Fall. In the early 2000’s I began presenting retreats that were 2- 5 days long. In 2005 I was invited to teach in Gainesville, Florida. To create a theme, I immediately thought of pirates and treasure off the coast of Florida! And that workshop became the foundation for a longer, more intimate and intense workshop, “School of the Sea; the Pirate’s Code“ presented in 2009 at Key West’s Southernmost House organized and made possible by the late Lou Ann Granger of Destiny Voyages.

My house and my studio reflect this connection to pirates. My office where I sit typing this is the “Captains Quarters” where pirate flags cover the windows and a children’s lamp with a pirate ship and sails lights my progress. Friends send me pirate décor and skull and crossbones hang over archways. In the living room is a floor to ceiling bookshelf of books and articles relating to piracy which now is overfilling. Pirate paintings hang on the wall with my favorite, the “Battle at Sea,” with the Pirate Queens timeline that lists the women pirates, over 58, that I have discovered. Above the painting hangs a vintage roll up map of the Caribbean, my current focus. I had an entire armoire filled with pirate costumes and my closet houses pirate daily wear. Most days I wear my pirate earrings- black skulls with crystal eye sockets. I am easy to shop for; ships, shells and anything seaful soulful on plates, mugs, sheets, pillows, T-shirts, bedroom slippers. In winter, I put up a Pirate Christmas tree with pirate ornaments such as sharks dressed as pirates, Hallmark Johnny Depp, fish, crabs, plenty of ships in all sizes, a pirate polar bear with an eye patch, and a pirate hat tree topper.

Raise the Black!

What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been interested in pirates all my life and for most of my life, I’ve kept it quiet and on the down low because I wanted to be taken seriously as an artist and serious artists don’t paint pirates, though the older I get, it seems the more I let my pirate flag or Jolly Roger fly. And based on this interest, I’ve known about the usual suspects of women pirates; Grace O’Malley, Anne Bonney, Mary Read. It wasn’t until I went to an Artist Residency at Green Olive Arts in Tetouan, Morocco in 2016 that I was introduced to a female pirate I had never heard of, and that introduction made me curious about the possibility of other women pirates who have been neglected from history. Sayyida al Hurra, corsair/privateer, abandoned home & comforts to pursue freedom beyond society’s confines. This 16th century ruler and pirate dared to take advantage of the rights, privileges, and liberties exclusive to men, becoming one of the most successful pirates of all time you’ve never heard of. In times of injustice the pirate takes her place in history. No fucking quarter.

There’s no turning back now; unfurl the canvas!

In pursuit of the pirate Queens!

Captain Morgan La Fey, “The Pirate’s Log”

“Pirate Fate”

It is hereby official, and this be my Letter of Marque; I am in pursuit of the Pirate Queens, and it has become verily pertinent to document a journey that is, essentially, my purpose. I will be working on this multifaceted art installation and highly complex research project for the rest of my life. I no longer need nor seek your permission. No quarter asked; none given.

In Pursuit of the Pirate Queens

I meant to get started on this blog some time ago and it’s going to take me a while to catch you all up. Currently I am working on my Pirate Queens Artist Residency. I’ve been rejected from most coastal residency programs (such as in Greece, Italy, and a couple lighthouse residencies on the East Coast of the United States- 19 applications total), and in 2023, after being rejected for the 3rd time from the Key West Art Studios, a fully funded and very prestigious, highly competitive residency, I collapsed. I was devastated. I had been looking for approval and acceptance for what I was working on, and when I didn’t get it, I felt that what I was doing was lame, stupid, unimportant, uninteresting, clearly not worth funding. I took it upon myself that I was not a worthwhile artist, my ideas did not matter, and that neither me nor my artwork were enough. Outwardly, I gave up; no one wants what I got. But inwardly I could not stop and quietly continued building my Pirate Library and voraciously reading everything pertaining to the Pirate Queens. And throughout, I never stopped working in my Pirate Visual Journals, a creative practice that combines journal writing with art making in a book of raw self-expression in the theme of piracy, which suits and reflects the dark side of my personality quite well.

I am not a researcher, historian nor archivist, and as a matter of fact, being Epileptic, I have learning disabilities and never really did well in school, which is ultimately why I went to art school- what else could I do? What would become of me? It is hard to let go of my self-imposed labels such, as I’m stupid and I can’t learn, that run me into the ground and often threaten to derail my efforts, but for the first time in my life, I am absolutely fired up about all my research and cannot get enough.  And while I have no idea how to organize what I am reading, let alone remember it to figure out how to connect it all in context, and can’t seem to get a handle on all these avenues I keep getting distracted by- albeit relevant roads leading to the center- I am fucking forging on. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing or how to do it; nevertheless, I tirelessly continue on with whatever it is I seem to be doing with very little comprehension that would enable me to articulately define or describe it to you. I have no 3-minute elevator speech to gain your support, but I could talk to you hours on end about the lost 1715 fleet. What I do know is that I am onboard whatever ship this is to wherever it takes me, for however long it takes, and I have faith that all of this is leading me somewhere where X marks the spot.

This log is an attempt to organize and record my destiny in pursuit of the Pirate Queens…

Mixed Media

As a mixed media artist I’ve always collected collage material. I have stickers, old postage, postcards and hotel stickers I bought when I was 14 that were vintage even when I bought them. About 20 years ago an APS librarian was retiring and someone contacted me to give me her entire collection of papers, book covers, posters, portfolios and photos she had been adding to her archives for forty years. I put the stuff in boxes, stored it in my garage, and forgot about it. About ten years ago I decided to go through it all and decide what I could use and what I should throw out/give away. What I liked best were the oversized folders that were handmade by folding large pieces of manila paper in half with plastic tabs stapled on the side for labels. I tore the folders in half and used them for figure drawings. There were many portfolios with old book covers and other young adult library materials pre-internet used for research and reports. There was also a lot of Western and Southwestern materials which I hung onto.

I had been collecting western collage material actually most of my life but more specifically and directly when I moved to New Mexico in 1994. Much of it I purchased at the yearly giant library sales: I have a record of Yul Brynner dressed as a cowboy, LP soundtracks to Oklahoma, books for teens about the history of the west as well as the classic Time/Life series books on the West. As part of my visual journaling repertoire of workshops I had a Westward Journal class that utilized a lot of these collected books and collage materials. And between a handful of good friends, we did a journal round robin using those old Time/Life series books.  I had a western Murder Mystery party for a birthday one year and all my friends played dressed up. My partner at the time was a bluegrass singer and we had a lot of fun in those days traveling around doing shows and dressing the part. A good friend made great cds for me of old time western music to play in my Western themed workshops. A few years ago my sister joined me on a birthday ride in Acacia. We got a video of me riding down the Rio Grande shooting my toy pistol, waving my hat and yelling, yee ha! A lifetime of collage, books, costumes and music I held onto not knowing why. So when the idea for this series came to me, to a certain extent, I was prepared.

Legendary Lawman

My sister who is my neighbor and tenant was here when the Xfinity/Comcast technician came over to fix the modem because its her internet as well. She’s a great researcher and from the beginning has sent me links to articles about the Compton Cowboys in Southern California and male and female rodeo riders here in Albuquerque. When you start looking, African American cowboys are everywhere, contrary to what History of the American West books and the Hollywood film industry would have us believe. Today, photos of black cowboys from the 1860’s-1890’s West appear on Pinterest and there are many internet articles, books, videos, and documentaries that I have been utilizing for research. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, but once I did, the marginalization and erasure were blatant. Wyatt Earp is common knowledge - why don’t we know about Bass Reeves, the greatest lawman who served under Judge Isaac Parker in Fort Smith and the first black US Deputy Marshal?

My longtime friend of nearly 45 years lives in the Los Angeles area. When the comcast technician left I called her and asked if her husband had a cowboy hat and would he be willing to pose and could she take a picture? I thought maybe I could take the same idea of painting his portrait into the background of a classic iconic western movie poster. She laughed. No I’m serious. She continued to laugh - I took that as a no.

It was about this time, as the Pandemic was spreading, that George Floyd was murdered. People took to the streets around the world. I called my longtime friend in LA to check in. She told me her husband wanted to go to the #BLM protests in LA. I was like no! Absolutely not! Not because of the pandemic but because her husband had suffered a massive stroke and only has the use of one arm and can only say yeah and okay. I told her if the police tell him to put his hands up he can’t and he can’t explain why and when they talk to him and he keeps saying okay…I just said, the cops are going to kill him. You cannot go. It occurred to me I didn’t feel the need to call any of my white friends and tell them to stay home. My white privilege was clear to me. I wasn’t afraid that my white friends would be killed. All I could think was that you can’t go I love you and I don’t want to lose you. That I might fear for my friends’ lives solely because of the color of their skin is how many people of color feel everyday of their lives for themselves and their families for generations upon generations. I never in my life had to feel this way until this moment.

In spite of my fear my friends headed out. We heard the Compton Cowboys were participating in a march in LA. My friend is an amazing street photographer and she was hoping to get a photo of the Cowboys on their horses and told me Jule, maybe if I get a good photo you can use it in your painting! That was cool and exciting, but it didn’t seem right to me. I didn’t know any of the Compton Cowboys and unless I had permission, it wouldn’t be right to paint anyone from a photo she might take. As fate would have it, my friends were never close enough to get any photos. The Compton Cowboys are an amazing community of Black riders and if you don’t know about them, please look them up. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compton_Cowboys     

With so much neglected history about the black cowboy in the West, I didn’t know where to begin.  Based on the synchronicity of everything that was presenting itself regarding the work it seemed like that’s what I wanted to paint but it just didn’t feel right to paint a portrait of someone I found in a book or on Pinterest. And even though I was interested in Black Cowboy history, it didn’t feel right to paint a series about it from my white perspective. I felt connected to the specific story of my Comcast technician. And even in the beginning when I knew I was going to make 3 paintings and that one would be the diptych I had no idea what to paint on the third panel. It was this particular guy. That’s really all I knew. Beyond that, I had no plan. I did not envision a series.

Page from a 2006 Visual Journal. I altered a History Book of the American West I purchased about 15 years ago at a library Sale- no mention of black cowboys anywhere. I retitled it “Little Naked Cowgirl.”

I needed to go to the Library to return books I had had since the lockdown began. I didn’t want to get any new books or movies; I didn’t want to touch anything. But I have this thing for cookbooks so I thought I’ll just grab a few then I can leave them on the studio porch for a few days to air any possible covid-contamination. To check out you pass through the movie section. Right there in front of me was “True Grit” with John Wayne and I grabbed it. Watching it brought back memories of my childhood playing cowboys with my brother. My Dad himself was sort of a John Wayne character: tall, commanding, larger than life.. I remembered myself as a young girl and how these Hollywood icons in the classic western were heroes to me - strong characters I looked up to. John Wayne was a legendary figure and I could see myself reflected- I could be that- I could do that. And that was only true as a white person; I could see a reflection of myself in these iconic white cowboys.

From my research I knew that Hollywood had stolen stories of the Black Cowboy to use as white stories about the west. What if Bass Reeves had been a movie star hero we could all look up to? A man of integrity and honor. Because we know now that John Wayne was a white supremacist. And we fucking looked up to that bastard. What if John Wayne had been a real hero, a man of honor and integrity - what would that look like? I suddenly thought of my friend Steven, a man of great style and poise, generous, committed, multi-talented, charming, a teacher, a giver - I felt that he was a man who could pull off a John Wayne swagger but as a decent human being.

When the 8’ x 4’ x 1.5” panel arrived at my house, I went with my motto “start by starting” and gessoed the panel. An idea of what to paint was slowly taking shape. That afternoon, a little uneasy and nervous and very uncertain about what I was about to propose, I called my friend Steven Woodbury.

The Guns of San Lorenzo

The show deadline has been extended to August, which I am relived about because I feel like I haven’t even started yet. I’m actually hoping that the show will be cancelled altogether and I can just give up.

When I first started or rather what I refused to start or couldn’t start, I didn’t have any direction.  When I finally discovered inspiration through my Comcast technician, I couldn’t get over it. When he left, I didn’t know what to do. I felt crushed. I thought maybe I would paint my sister and my neighbor as kooky western spinsters. Now I was stuck on the west, but during this time of pandemic, protests and outrage, I felt like needed to say something in my work that was important for these times. In a journal I wrote; 6/2/2020 I feel I don’t have the words or the strength in words to talk about what’s going on. Not in my art. I feel I should be doing something, saying something to make a difference. But I’m not. I can’t. Perhaps its synonymous with my living. What I can’t/won’t do. If I can’t do it for me, I can’t do it for you (us).  

I spent a lot of time sitting around not working just looking at the work. I realize the prints from Remington & Me and my cowboy journal had lots of nudity and that that would not be acceptable as “family friendly.” I needed to cover over them. Disappointed and still hooked on the story of the black cowboy but not knowing what to do with it, I got back to work, again thinking, if I just work, what to do next will come to me. I felt like I needed new imagery and I decided to draw my own western collage material beginning with a toy cowboy pistol I have.

This is a big deal. Typically I use found collage material in my work. Other than the figure, most of the work is collage. Taking the time to draw the gun was new- making my own material was new. It was based on this experience that in the completed images for the show I had the confidence and patience to draw what I would usually have researched and collected to glue down. Drawing these guns actually changed or added new dimension to the way I work; but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Using figure drawings on architectural plans I added more marks, paint and collage to the fairly large paper for more interest. I then made a decision to make the guns all 8” x 12” and proceeded to cut the paper to size. Sometimes I used other paper such as sheet music and maps. Sometimes I cut the gun out and collaged it on other paper. I also used the background leftover from the cutout gun to create new guns. I saved everything I cut out to reuse.  I glued a bunch down on a smaller panel. Then I randomly glued them down on one of the larger panels. Then went all in and completely covered the other two panels including covering over a lot of the other collaged prints, though in some areas working around it, as well as gluing them down on small 8x10 panels.  I made over a hundred and I just kept making guns all the same size but with a variety of materials trying to make each one different. And I really enjoyed it. People asked me what’s with the guns? I didn’t know and I kept making them.

Small gun panel 36” x 36” Some spaces I left open to draw the guns directly onto the surface.

I called the curator to talk about my guns so he came over for another studio visit. He said you could just show these as is. I said for me, they don’t say anything yet so even though I like them, they are not complete. I was thinking I would do a portrait on top, but then I would lose the guns. Augustine said, “You know, I like the guns too and I’m thinking you should leave them for some time when you know what to do with them. I recommend you start over for this project.” I realize that will require building new panels.

Leaving some of the previous collage material and randomly adding guns though I eventually stick to the grid. There is a Larry Hagman from Dallas buck at the top- I’ve had that since college.

Since my truck died in October my sister lent me her car and I met Augustine at Home Depot to purchase the materials and Augustine would then drop them off at my house. Meanwhile, I was the recipient of the Fulcrum Fund emergency grant this year and I actually did what I said I was going to do with it. I paid my mortgage and bills and the rest I used to buy these materials for the show. I got the wood, a circular saw and a belt sander. At the store I’m asking Augustine how to build it how do I set it up to cut the wood, glue it, clamp it, etc. then he’s just looking at me. Finally he says, do you want me to just build this for you? Pretty much fuck yeah. In case you don’t know, Augustine is one of the most amazing artist/curators/friends out there and someone this city and the art community desperately needs. Why SBCC is fucking with him is beyond my knowledge. As an artist, I am so lucky to know someone like Augustine who has been an incredible help and support to me over the years Literally hanging a show for me when I couldn’t figure out how to do it. He’s brilliant, and his suggestion of starting over- which, even though I thought it was particularly crazy, starting over when it had been so hard to start from the get go, it sounded completely on track. A few days later a cradled 8’ x 4’ x 1.5” panel arrived at my studio. Holy shit.

Better start over…

Remington & Me

I spent the better part of 2019 applying to coastal residencies around the world for my Pirate Queen’s series. But I came across two – one was in a ghost town and the other in Breckenridge, CO that I also applied to.  I wrote great proposals utilizing work I had been doing over the years. I was rejected from every single residency. Even though I was rejected I felt like the work I proposed for the Western residencies was valid and I should just do it on my own.

Over the years I have been altering a book of Remington’s sketches of the West that I bought at a library sale. It’s an old book with faded paper and all this space around the images which bothers me - feels like wasted space - so I reworked it as a sketchbook/artist book and added 2 minute gestural figures from my figure drawing group.  Another book I bought at the library sale is a history book for teens on the American West- no mention of Black Cowboys- that I turned into a visual journal. I wanted to take images from both books and blow them up and rework them into larger pieces. For some of them I wanted to make a grid (I have this thing with grids if you remember my “Stripped” Exhibit) and glue down the images sided by side and then work on top of them. Last year, after all the rejections, I scanned all the images in these books and printed up copies and forgot about them.

Feeling lost and not knowing what direction to take with my current work for the SBCC but still compelled by the western imagery yet unable to go to a printer at this point in lockdown to make copies/prints, I suddenly remembered this collage material. Like hey, don’t I already have Western imagery that I am not attached to that I can use as background? On the smaller panels I glued them down in a grid and on the larger panels I glued them down randomly.

Panel with collage and stencil

On one of the panels to connect it with older work but also to separate it from the diptych I added a large tile pattern stencil in a fluorescent magenta color over the collage. The colors I thought I didn’t like created a vibrancy I don’t normally see in my color choices.

Side by Side

Something clicked when my Comcast/Xfinity technician told me he had been a rodeo bull rider. His charismatic presence affected me and I contacted him later to ask if I could paint his portrait. Everything these days is directed towards the youth and in my 50s I am more interested in what the elders are doing. We talked back and forth a few times and he said he would be interested in participating in my project as he had never had his portrait painted before. He explained he didn’t have any photos of himself in his rodeo days (long story) but he offered we take pictures of him in cowboy attire in my backyard (that looks a bit like an old west scene). I suggested that from the photos I could insert him into an old John Wayne movie poster. Once when I called him he was driving back from Denver - he had responded to an open casting call for a Jay-Z all black western film.

I admired this man’s honesty and vulnerability about discussing the hardships he faced as a black rodeo rider and the ups and downs of his life. I was looking forward to representing this powerful, compelling, handsome aging black rodeo bull rider in a painting - and scared. Maybe I’m not good enough, maybe he won’t like my work? While we were talking back and forth, and even though I didn’t have any photos yet, I decided I better get started.

The curator at the South Broadway Cultural Center, Augustine Romero, urged me to create large pieces for the show because the gallery space is expansive with high ceilings. I began by gessoing three 6’ x 4’ masonite panels. From there I painted all three with orange on the top and yellow on the bottom; two colors I don’t like and never use but was thinking New Mexico sunset. I had a few smaller panels that I did the same with. I was intending to put two of the large painted panels together as a diptych for the portrait. When the curator came by for a studio visit he was supportive of the beginning stage of the work and was excited about my painting proposal of a contemporary black cowboy.

And then literally a few days before the state closed down due to Covid 19, my model had to leave Albuquerque indefinitely due to an urgent family matter. He took a leave of absence from his job at Comcast and was gone. Though I never heard from him again and I don’t even really know him, the thought of him lingers in me because its true; chance encounters have been known to change lives.

Uninspired

About a year ago, when my figure drawing group was a big part of my life and my art practice, fellow artist John Barney invited me to be part of a group showing that featured artists who used text in their work. I had been working on “Pirate Queens; Piracy is a Feminist Act” at the time and considered it a perfect opportunity to continue the series. And even though I am WAY into my Pirate research and paintings, it didn’t sit right. I knew I needed to work on something else even though I didn’t know what that was. I figured I would let it sit and it would come to me as part of my artistic process.

The show was scheduled for May of 2020. Each month since being invited I felt the urgency to begin new pieces, but to no avail. The new year arrived and it became even more pertinent that I get focused and get to work. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t. In January of 2020, while Corona was arriving in the states, a dear friend died and I found it difficult to do much of anything. By February I was freaking out about my lack of progress and initiative. I didn’t know what to do, I certainly wasn’t working and the deadline of May was looming closer.

At the South Broadway Cultural Center gallery space where the show was slated all the work has to be “family friendly.” I felt confined by no nudity and no profanity which comprise most of my work. I struggled with what I was going to do as part of this group show. Usually I have an idea and I get going but I couldn’t commit and I couldn’t get started.  I was stressed out about my lack of vision and inspiration. I was reaching for subject matter but nothing moved me. I felt like I should bow out. So much of the artwork I see these days is of the beautiful young lips pursed; beautiful and empty. I am more interested in depicting the aging and what it took to get there, but still nothing presented itself as a solid direction.

Shortly before the State of New Mexico shut down due to the pandemic my internet went out. Unfortunately, with Xfinity, this is a common issue. Yet another technician came out to “fix” the modem. Since he was here working for a couple of hours we got to talking as he was close to my age (though he looked quite a bit younger) and he revealed he had been a rodeo bull rider. Something within shifted and I felt the energy of imagery coming to me through this chance encounter.

Work in Progress

What I enjoy about creating a piece for the Harwood Fundraiser is that I am not able to work how I normally would work which would be allowing the image to arrive. Because I have a deadline, I have to come up with an idea and execute it. Typically, and I've been participating since its inception,  it's hard for me to think of what to do. That kind of thought process feels alien to me. But this year, I pretty much had my idea. I knew I wanted to do the matador/minotaur imagery. I had set up my 24" x 24" board with matador images I had collected over the years. I knew I wanted to use an image of a woman dressed as a bullfighter- she was the muse for Buffet and his matador series, and I wanted the minotaur to be in the background in a pose I had drawn from a recent figure drawing session on a small post card or mail art. I was also considering a calf or 2 coming up in front and printed them up from some photos I had taken. So I had a vision. That's rarely true.

I knew I wanted narrative, but wasn't sure what to say or where to say it. Then I was attached to the words, but couldn't quite fit them in. Then I get a call from the Harwood and of course I'm really, really late by this point, and they are pissed. I'm holding up the show. I told them it was a beast. I couldn't hurry my process. It wouldn't resolve. I got stressed out. So I painted out the parts that weren't working, which was a lot, to try and hurry things up. But then it didn't feel like me. I had to keep pushing. I was up late, up early. I felt like I needed another week. It wasn't happening. But I knew that what WAS happening, seemed different.

Transitions; Comings and Goings

Life is always moving along pushing us not so gently and with so many changes happening at once, I feel overwhelmed, tired, as if beaten about by this Autumn wind. But I've been inside protected all this time, at my desk behind a computer screen, instigating even more changes. Inner and outer are colliding as my best friend Estella left for Hawaii this early morning, and my sister Sri Louise moves in tomorrow from Oakland. Amazing Spirits passing I know they must feel each other as they simultaneously arrive and depart.

I am busy this lovely grey day writing my proposal for a an Artist Residency in Morocco! When I discovered it, a fierce passion made itself known: this is what I have always wanted and dreamed of and now is the time! So here I am gathering all my info that was lost when my hard drive crashed 2 years ago updating the last ten years of exhibits, publishing, teaching, a lot, I mean,  a lot, and getting it all together in one CV. I've been in a time warp of personal history of old exhibits, artwork, friends, experiences. I've truly done a lot, including a brand new website to create the threshold for all these new goings on. I've been trying to be with my past while updating for my future while preparing for Sri Louise to arrive and helping, not as much as I would have liked to, the relocation of Estella. 

While working on this, I hit the send button on my proposal for Morocco and my dream. And so it is. I'll keep you posted. My heart is in my belly; all this wanting I want I want and the deep feeling that this is mine. It's been a busy time. I am tired.

Meanwhile I've put off getting started on my 24" x 24" to get all this done. Every year since it's inception I have been part of the Harwood Art Center's 12 x 12 fundraiser and am happy this year to be picked for the 24" x 24." I'm fast, I'm furious, but I can't get this done by the deadline of Nov. 2. But soon, soon.  I started this 2 weeks ago with images I have been collecting for a long time. I was so excited, I set up a bunch more panels and some papers for figure drawings. By the looks of it, you'd think I was committing to a series. Since Greece in 2006 I've wanted to do a matador/minotaur series. I did a great one for the 12 x 12 that year, but now its bigger, and hopefully I am better. Always striving, always evolving.  Here's to beautiful new beginnings for all of us.