The pastel background juxtaposes the feelings of grace and strength.
I have many more ideas for this – Draw Anything illustration!
Elephants are highly intelligent and social animals. They are nurturing and show empathy for one another and live in a matriarchal system, meaning the females are in charge. The male elephants, or Bulls, are aggressive, territorial, and among the strongest animals on earth. They are protective of the females. Elephants, however, do not mate for life.
“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. ..“
Martha Graham was an American modern dancer and choreographer, whose style, the Graham Technique, reshaped American dance and is still taught worldwide.
I remembered Michelangelo’s iconic marble statue, La Pieta, how awe-inspiring it was, how it overwhelmed me with grace and hope.
* * * * * *
My painting “Harmony in Sorrow” was inspired by a news report. A father sat leaning against a concrete slab in a war torn city, crying. Lying next to him was his teenaged son’s motionless body on the rubble-laden ground.
A passerby, (helping a wounded person walk), said to the weeping man to “keep moving.” But the grief-stricken father said he didn’t care if he died – he would not leave without his son.
The stranger asked the man if his son was alive. The father could only cry with his hands covering his face. He said, “I don’t know, I don’t know.”
The passerby shouted, “Pick up your son!”
The father jumped to his feet like a soldier obeying orders and picked up his son’s lifeless body seemingly effortlessly, and the three – kept moving.
* * * * * *
After I saw this scene on T.V., I cried for the father, for all.
But it was the kindness of the stranger that reminded me of the inherent goodness in most of us. Of how a moment of compassion and kindness can change everything in an instant and almost evaporate even the worst hopelessness and fear.
I needed help reconciling war, my grief for the father’s loss, his son, and the passerby.
‘Why?’ I asked an invisible presence without words. Why this horror in the world? It was a question that plagued me in my youth.
That’s when Michelangelo’s, marble wonder La Pieta, came to my mind. Of Mother Mary holding the limp body of her dead son Jesus after the crucifixion. What unimaginable grief to lose a child, I thought again. Even the iconic archetype of motherhood (and parenthood), the ultimate symbol of faith, love, and hope would need to be comforted, I thought. That suffering is universal.
In my painting, Hummingbirds swoop down from Heaven offering Mother flowers and consolation. The birds relay a message. Her son is in Heaven. The pool of water symbolizes Lourdes’ water (the miracle) the spring in the Grotto of Massabielle in the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes, France.
******
Michelangelo’s La Pieta statue, “The Pity,” is housed in St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City.
******
Being atheist-raised, I never knew that drawing religious-themed art could be comforting. Every time I look at my painting, I am reminded of the inherent goodness in most of us.
I probably would not have reached out for help in a religious way through my art were it not for the famous marble sculpture that exemplified how art can be transformative and transcendent in its message.
Transcendence: refers to surpassing or going beyond ordinary experience often associated with spirituality and religion. It signifies rising above physical existence and achieving a higher consciousness or existence beyond physical laws.
Dictionary
I hope to continue painting religious, archetypal, and spiritual themes of various cultures, especially when I need strength and hope.
One day I wanted to run away from my life, just get in a fast car, and keep driving. I think we’ve all felt that way at one time or another.
My choice of car was the 1968 Ford Mustang – maybe because my father had one. He loved his Stang until it was stolen piece by piece. First the ornate wheel coverings (hubcaps), then the “running Mustang” emblems, and eventually, the car.
I planned to drive as far as I could with the wind at my back and in my hair.
Well, since I couldn’t really do it, I drew it! And, like usual, one thing led to another.
First, I drew the car, with references, of course. It was challenging, but it took my mind off everything. Then, I put myself in the driver’s seat! I hadn’t planned that. If you look closely, there’s a hat flying off my head – New York City is in the rear view mirror, sort of.
Route 66 came to mind. I could cross the country to California.
Of course Rt. 66 no longer existed the same way it used to; it was decommissioned in the 1980s, but this was my fantasy, right?
Out of nowhere, a Mustang galloped alongside my car to race me! It was as though the missing ornament returned. I drew in the RT 66 signs, and lastly, an Eagle holding a racing flag.
Sometimes, when you don’t know what to draw, and you’re having a bad day, try drawing your getaway plan. You’ll feel much better!
Whenever I tell someone I’m an artist, nine times out of ten, they say, “I can’t draw a stick figure.” (And that’s when someone takes an interest.)
I used to reply, oh, anyone can learn to draw with the right teachers, patience, and practice. I’d add, that’s how I learned and still do. But their brains didn’t seem to compute a word of what I said.
The same thing happened again recently. I said, I’m an artist and the person replied, I can’t draw a stick figure.
I wanted to scream “I can’t draw a stick figure” is not only cliché, it’s boring! Comparing art to a stick figure doesn’t sound cutesy anymore, if it ever did.
Minall: Seriously? Were you stressedat the time?
Me: Well, my faithful friend, Minall, I had just finished a painting and was raw from the emotions of grief and sorrow that it depicted.
Minall: I can see how the stick figure comment was bad timing.
Me: It was and I had worked on the painting for at least two weeks. Why is it in the 21st century people are still thinking about art in terms of drawing a stick figure? Why don’t they say, I can’t draw an emoji? It would be a step-up because emojis express a lot more feelings and thoughts.
Now I’ve been told that I’m making too much of it in a
Moonstruck kind of way.
Minall: The movie?
Me: Yes, with Cher and Nicolas Cage. Remember? Snap out of it! SLAP – like that. Minall: Oh yeah, never saw it.
Me: And someone else said, calm down, it’s meant to be a compliment.
Minall: Really? Sounds like it’s about them.
Me: A better compliment would be to engage in a conversation. Ask me a question. Like, What kind of art do you do?
Minall: That’s not unreasonable.
Me: Another friend said, Tell the ancient Egyptians that stick figures aren’t relevant.
Minall: Wow, she sure told you.
Me: Yes, she usually does. But like others, she missed my point. Someone else chimed in suggesting the comment was a great opportunity to offer a beginner art class.
Minall: That’s some poll.
Me: I know, Right? Is it really my responsibility to teach a class!
Minall: Breathe, breathe!
Me: Okay, maybe Ancient Egyptian Stick Figures 101.
Ugh, what am I saying!? Even if I proposed teaching How to draw a Stick Figure they’d look at me like I had two heads because they don’t take what they’re saying seriously, or me as an artist, and that’s the point. Not taking me as an artist (or art) seriously.
Minall: Can a stick figure have two heads?
Me: Okay, let’s say I’m blowing all this out of proportion.
Minall: Like when you try to draw hands?
Me: Hey, I read Rembrandt had trouble drawing hands and would hide or blur them out.
Anyway, the stick figure remark never bothered me before. I’ve always enthusiastically encouraged others to see the potential in themselves, you know, the possibilities? But that day I got angry.
Minall: Don’t be so hard on yourself. We all have weird moments like…feeling anger. At least you held it in.
Me: That’s what I was taught to do.
Minall: Good girl.
Me: But whether I’m “right” or “wrong,” there’s got to be a middle ground. Why can’t people expand their thinking?
Minall: Like, seek out
new worlds, new civilizations …boldly go where no [man], one has gone before?”
Me: Yes, I love the Star Trek series. (All of the spin-offs too.)
Minall: If you were to go to a Star Trek convention, which character would you be?
Me: Great question. See!? That’s what I’m talking about. Engage.
Minall: Captain Jean Luke Picard, then?Engage!
Me: Love Patrick Stewart, but think I’d be Captain Janeway, (Kate Mulgrew.) She took ridiculous risks, like I’m doing now.
Minall: It’s the only way to grow. Plus, it makes life more interesting.
Me: But why can’t stick-figure-challenged-people engage in more thoughtful dialogue?
Minall: Why? why?Why you scratch couch. Sorry, I was talking to the cat.
Me: And another thing, would someone say the stick figure remark to a male artist? Tick Tok, Tick Tok. Come on now, you know what I’m talking about, right?
Minall: Oh sorry, I spaced out. Of course men and male artists are treatedmore seriously.
Me: Do you think I’m making too much of everything?
Minall: You betcha.
Me: Well, if it’s one thing I learned it’s, if I want to see something change, I would have to be the change.
Minall: Ghandi?
Me: Yes. Great man.
Minall: There are some, yes.
Me: Blaming others for our unhappiness never works. It’s on us to change.
Minall: Speak for yourself.
Me: So let’s see, how I/we can help others understand the importance of art – individually and collectively?
Minall: Ugh, here we go.
Me: Art is a powerful form of expression that is meaningful to individuals, their emotions, experiences, and ideas.
Minall: Good luck with that.
Me: What?
Minall: I didn’t say anything. Me: That we create art not just for ourselves, but for others to see a sense of wonder and awe in the world.
Minall: Love it.
Me: Art is a form of alchemy. Minall: Magic?
Me: Not exactly, but close.
Creativity helps transform self-defeating, negative emotions and ideas into positive ones, helps relieve anxiety, and those suffering with PTSD heal.
Minall: Wow, that’s a lot.
Me: But wait, there’s more.
Minall: Bring it.
Me: We create for social change, to raise awareness, and to advocate for human, planetary, and animal rights. Art is transcendent!
Minall: So? What are you gonna do?
Me: So, when some people (especially in suburbia) say they can’t draw a stick figure, I will answer differently,
like:
I’m glad you can’t draw a stick figure because there’s so much more to art than drawing and drawing a stick figure.
Minall: Uhm, that may be a little too hostile.
Me: Okay, how about:
I enjoy creating art that expresses the beauty, joy, and hope in life. Better?
Minall: Much. But I don’t think joy and hope is in vogue.
Me: Don’t remind me. Anyway, those responses ought to put the stick figure remark out of its misery, and me too!
Minall: Hope on.
Special thanks to Minall, my alter ego who is also a minimalist.
I scrolled through my smartphone’s treasure trove of – what to draw pics when a tall wicker basketcaught my eye. My smile confirmed the choice as the picture stirred a quaint memory.
Many years ago (while on vacation in my youth) driving through Charleston, South Carolina, I saw a woman sitting on a chair on the sidewalk weaving a basket. She had 25 or more completed for sale. The elder African American woman looked at peace weaving her basket, and I wished I had a “job” like hers, but her basket-weaving was so much more than that, and more than entrepreneurship.
Every basket held the collective skill and wisdom of generations of basket weavers. Those baskets were magical, made with the weaver’s hands and heart.
I immediately wanted to stop the car and buy one, but I didn’t. It got me to thinking how past fears stopped me from doing even enjoyable things. And that sometimes even though we overcome them, some fears (even as we get older) that lay dormant, can sometimes manifest in a different way.
For example, the basket I chose to draw, which made me smile, which brought up a delightful memory was harder to draw than anticipated. After struggling with trying to draw it, I gave up – which was so unlike me. Old fears had cropped up. 
One reason, for doubting my abilities was feeling
I wasn’t a good enough artist to tackle such an intricate subject matter. But was it true?
Finding the truth or lie was imperative. So I performed a Vulcan mind-meld on myself (à la Mr. Spock of Star Trek fame) “My mind to [my] mind. My thoughts to [my] thoughts.”
The Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) technique learned in my youth kicked in and began refuting the ill-gotten thought.
I got out a sheet of paper (yes paper) to write down why the thought emerged and how to refute it.
For example, “I’m not a good enough artist to draw this basket.” ‘Really?’
I responded.
‘That sounds like black and white thinking, all or nothing, and overgeneralizing,” and a few others on the list of identifying automatic thoughts.
My response was, “The statement is not entirely true. I am a very good artist, I’ve had lots of training and a lot of foundational knowledge about how to draw.”
Good, but it wasn’t enough. I learned in CBT, there is a grain of truth to almost everything – just like shading objects, there are varying degrees of gradation from dark to light – so true with our thoughts. I conceded that I can’t draw everything especially without real intentional effort.
“It’s too hard to draw,” I wrote.
Response: “Yes, whoever said drawing, and drawing intricate objects, was easy?” I was sure even the Great Masters threw their paintings and paints at the wall in frustration on occasion.
“Yes,” I continued, “It’s hard to draw certain things. Besides, there are tricks to drawing intricate items like when painting trees we don’t draw every leaf, we suggest leaves and branches – smoke and mirrors. Do the same thing with the weave pattern, don’t painstakingly draw every freaking weave!” And here was the clincherino: I said, ‘My expertise, or secret art sauce is not in creating exact replicas as in fine art. That’s too labor intensive for me. I like to have fun, feel free, not confined. I like surprises!I want to feel the energetic joy of creating. Bingo!’
So, the mind meld and CBT worked. The digging deeper, helped put things in perspective and gave me a strategy to deal with my somewhat distorted thinking – and I felt better about myself and as an artist.
I had other cognitive dissonance – what they refer to in CBT as distorted thoughts. And because I practice CBT regularly, the solutions came quickly. I got right back on the proverbial horse.
In the final analysis I thought, ‘What if I drew the basket imperfectly with just enough charm? Yes! That’sright, the magic.’
As a result, I wielded a full-out art assault that unleashed the joy, my freer self, and folk-artsy style.
Colors, ideas, and experimentation reined supreme without judgment. Lo and behold, an idyllic scene emerged, adding a new dimension, – a story – which, again, is where I shine.
I loved how the basket illustration turned out. And have so many more ideas!
You just never know where art will take you when you don’t know what to draw and even when it seems too hard.
Basket Video – for fun 😊
My Art Wisdom
It’s okay to quit working on a drawing or painting if you’re struggling too much with it. There’s no art law that says we have to finish something (ever). (Though I recommend it.) Sometimes we’re more in the flow of our work than other times. Take a break, then go back to it with new eyes. And if you get angry about quitting, thinking you’re the worst artist on the planet, ask yourself questions as to why you feel the way you do.
Had I not taken a deeper dive to find out why I wanted to quit drawing the beautiful basket and memory, (beyond the frustration), I would have missed out.
By refuting my self-defeating, thoughts, I was able to stay true to my general art wisdom: to create fine works and not fine art, to enjoy the process, the flow. And joy is a big reason why I create.
Sometimes all you need is to get to the root of a thought, put it in its proper perspective (like a drawing) and make a simple course correction.
Follow the Breadcrumbs
When you resonate with a subject matter (in my case having a reverence for generational traditions), explore why. Perhaps, had I done so with my joy of basket weaving, maybe I would have pursued my studies in it, become an historian/artist or antique appraiser! Or, a basket weaver.
This “Draw Anything” illustration was inspired by The Soloist, a biographical movie starring Jamie Foxx, Robert Downey Jr, and Catherine Keener, “about a columnist who discovers a violin virtuoso living on the streets of L.A.” (HBO). The journalist persistently tries to help the musical genius live a more fulfilling life off the streets.
While watching the movie, I needed the same patience as the journalist in his quest to help someone who didn’t want it. I kept waiting for something good to happen but only felt frustration – so I guess the movie did its job.
In addition to introducing us to a remarkably talented musician, Nathaniel Ayers, Jr., it is also a heartfelt story that sheds light on homelessness and protecting the rights of the mentally ill.
One scene in particular touched me deeply: when the soloist (played by Jamie Foxx) played the cello, a sublime look of grace washed over him as if the music was speaking to him. He was at peace, and I wanted to capture the moment. Not being a portrait artist, I knew it would be a challenge. I kept having to return to it, trying to convey his likeness and the feeling. It took a lot of work, but I was glad I tried and happy with the outcome.
The Soloist
A Moment of Grace Through Music: When you don’t know what to draw. You may surprise yourself.
This “Draw Anything” series pays tribute to the great American artist Georgia O’Keeffe, who is best known for her stunningly large flowers, cow skulls, and landscapes of New Mexico.
I first saw O’Keeffe’s paintings in an art history class in High School. As I watched slides of the same old male artists’ paintings limp across the screen, a colorful, desert landscape of New Mexico appeared like a thirst-quenching mirage. My neurons must have lit up the dark classroom more so when I learned a woman painter created it.
Although O’Keeffe did not like being referred to as a “woman painter,” for obvious reasons, I hope she wouldn’t mind me tooting her horn in the context of a role model. She inspired me and countless other young girls and women who wanted to be serious artists.
About Georgia O’Keeffe
O’Keeffe was the first woman to exhibit her art at MoMA in 1929 and the first woman to be honored with a retrospective in the most prominent American museums. The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum opened on July 17, 1997, eleven years after the artist’s death. (It comprises multiple sites in two locations: Santa Fe, New Mexico, and Abiquiu, New Mexico.)
O’Keeffe’s highest-selling artwork (after her death) was her 1932 painting – Jimson Weed/White Flower No. 1, which sold for $44.4 million and set a record for the most expensive artwork by a woman ever sold. But even with that astronomical price tag, she still, to this day, does not make the list of highest-sold paintings compared to men, and neither does any other woman artist.
From artnet.com:
“For many centuries, Art History has essentially been a male history written about great male artists. But even in the Contemporary era, few women have gained market recognition. In 2021, the price gap between the two sexes was so wide that only one female signature was among the world’s top 100 art auction results: that of the immense (and rare) Frida Kahlo after one of her very important works miraculously appeared on the market last year (Diego y yo (1949), fetching $34.8 million.
Whereas a number of works by male artists have already fetched beyond 100 million dollars at auctions, no female artist has yet crossed the 50 million threshold.“
From artprice.com:
“Fortunately, nowadays, our meticulous collection and treatment of art market data has allowed the very clear observation of certain market realities: for example, it is abundantly clear that men completely dominate the Art Market both in number and in value. This observation has allowed key players in the art industry to revise their gender policies in favor of female artists as part of a fundamental rebalancing of society as a whole, and, fortunately, things are beginning to change. The visibility of certain major female artists has gradually been ramped up, and their valuations have improved.”
In Conclusion:
Like most artists who achieved fame, O’Keeffe had support. Alfred Stieglitz (the father of modern photography), who owned a famous art gallery in New York, was the first to exhibit O’Keeffe’s black and white charcoal drawings in his NYC Gallery, 291 – in 1916. But if it was not for her close friend Anita Pollitzer (Photographer), who showed those drawings to Stieglitz – who knows if we would have seen O’Keeffe’s work. However, it is worth noting, O’Keeffe was furious when she learned Stieglitz showed her work without her permisison. (Well, Masters of the Universe, at the time, sorry guys.) But she got over it, and the two married and supported each other in their artistic endeavors.
******
I thank Stieglitz. When he first saw O’Keeffe’s black-and-white drawings, he reportedly said, “At last! A woman on paper.” And that day in my High School art history class, I felt the same.
And homage to Anita Politzer, who genuinely saw her friend’s gift and knew it should be seen.
In 1984, O’Keeffe moved to Santa Fe, where she continued to paint outdoors in blazing heat for hours. She died on March 6, 1986, at 98 years old.
* * * *
So here’s to Georgia O’Keeffe, my role model and hero, Anita Politzer, and Alfred Stieglitz, for their contributions to the arts and rising above societal prejudices.
In the spirit of O’Keeffe, I drew my red bowl and added a Poppy flower to it. (O’Keeffe painted a lot of Poppies.) The chair is adorned with a black and white indiginous art mat, which adds to the Southwestern vibe.
That turned into the next “Draw Anything” pic. I changed the bowl a little and added grapes. Also, turned the art mat into a window shade, and note the southwest mountains, and white flower a la O’Keeffe.
I hope you enjoyed my tribute to Georgia O’Keeffe, Painter.
Have you ever played the game Kick The Can as a kid? (It’s hide and seek outside with a bunch of other kids.) When you see a kid hiding, you tap the can three times and say, “Tap, tap, tap, I see [fill in name]. And that kid loses the opportunity to “kick the can when you’re not looking. I thought the game was a good metaphor for how we sometimes seek inspiration when our playful muses are hiding behind a tree or something.
I love my muses, but not when they’re hiding. And especially when they leave the game without telling me.
One day, I decided no more waiting, looking and seeking. I took matters into my own hands.
Snowshoes
This was one of my first (draw anything) things. I saw the snowshoes hanging on the backdrop wall of a T.V. game show. I’d always found snowshoes intriguing.
I was making coffee in my kitchen when I noticed two colorful Totems – salt and pepper shakers. They were a gift from a friend who went on an Alaskan cruise. She knew I enjoyed indigenous cultures’ way of life.
At the time that I saw the shakers, I wasn’t thinking about “drawing anything” as it was morning, and I was half-asleep.
But once I began to draw anything regularly, I saw things with new eyes. I was excited to put these Totems on my list.
Before drawing the Totem, I saw a hotchpotch of colors and odd faces mixed together. But the more I studied it, a story emerged. If you are unfamiliar with Totems, they are worth researching.
I learned that Totems are meant to scare away enemies. For instance, the owl atop the pole could signify protection – a Keep Out sign. However, owls also symbolize intuition and insight. And because the owl wears a mask, it’s hiding something. Or, there’s a medicine man in the village.
The frogman holding a child says perhaps the tribe is family oriented. Frogs symbolize spring, rain, and renewal.
I have an intuitive feeling this is a peaceful tribe budding with children and there is a doctor in the house. Either way, one should be cautious before entering this hypothetical tribe. My novice speculations could be all wrong!
Drawing the Totem was challenging, like reaching the top of a mountain and flopping on the nearest rock. (No one said drawing anything was easy.) But I so enjoyed the process. It came to life with towering mountains in the background and a snow-filled landscape in Alaska! Or somewhere very cold.
Totem – Salt and Pepper Shaker
After I finished it, I had questions: What if I was hiking alone in a forest and came upon a Totem pole? Would I be afraid? Would I be in awe? Would I dare to touch the sacred monolith? Probably all, and take a selfie with it. So, I drew the Totem in the forest. (Instead of putting myself in the picture, I put two Moose, which is way more interesting.)
This version of the Totem looks menacing!
Abstract portion of Totem – can see more frog. Inspired by Moose antlers!
After working on these Totem drawings, an exciting dream befell me. I was asked (by a famous celeb/billionaire – Mark Cuban) if I wanted to fly a plane carrying supplies to people in outlying areas of Alaska – as an actual job! Instantly, I replied, “YES! I’d love to!”
I view the dream as a good omen, a message from the great Totem.
