German Girl Art

Solutitude

2012-01-15T12:11:00.003-06:00

The City We Thought We Knew
8x14 inches

I have been living in my head.
Instead of going into my studio, I have been creating and painting in my mind.
Instead of writing in my journal or posting on my blog, I have been conversing silently with myself.
Am I resting for the next chapter in my creative life?
Or am I stalling?

I finished the piece above a few weeks ago. I like it. It stirs a conundrum of emotions. There's a sweetness, mingled with sorrow. A feeling of desolation and solitude. It doesn't depress or sadden me, but there is something a bit sad about the lone horse, traveling silently past the empty horizon. But when I look at it, I feel a sense of peace. I like the quiet.

My favorite time of day is the quiet time, before the noise of living is heard, speeding past my windows, in a hurry to get somewhere. Every driver, every passenger, have their own stories to live. So before most wake, I wake and I listen to the silence. And I feel a sense of peace.

That sweet time is when I reflect on my blessings and send my gratitude out to the universe. I sense the presence of my husband and two dogs and relax into the safety of their love.

This year my resolution revolves around grace. Being more open, less critical, more loving. less judging. Living up and out, instead of in and down. Which means I need to get out of my head and into my studio. Take my hands off of the keyboard and get them into some paint!

Please Pass the Potatoes

2011-12-07T16:14:00.004-06:00

Please Pass The Potatoes

Giving with a Purpose

Someone asked me today if I was ready for the holidays, "Yes, I am."

She looked at me with envy, "Lucky you."

I mentioned, instead of buying gifts for our kids and friends, we made donations, in their names, to their local food pantries.

"What a great idea. Giving with a purpose. I just hope your kids understand and appreciate the sentiment behind what you're doing."

I shook my head"Oh yes, they won't be surprised, they know their parents."

All the envelopes were sent earlier this week and I hope, in our small way, we can create a little warmth for those who don't have as much as we have.

The Salvation Army really says it best: Sharing Is Caring

Together when can help

2011-11-20T13:28:00.012-06:00

Last year I had the idea of making donations on behalf of my family and friends, instead of giving gifts for Christmas. Like a lot of good ideas, it simply remained an idea.

This year, I am going to make it happen. I am calling the project; Please Pass the Potatoes.

After watching CBS Sunday Morning's segment on the "New Poor" http://www.cbsnews.com/sections/sunday/main3445.shtml?tag=hdr;snav
and learning how many people are struggling to feed themselves and their families, I decided to do something. Instead of giving gifts that will end up in a drawer, a corner, or some other forgotten place, I will make a donation, in their name, to a food pantry in their area.

Here are some statistics that motivated me to action:

1 in 6 adults have trouble putting food on their table, in America.

1 in4 children go to bed, hungry, in America.

14.7 million people are now on food stamps, in America.

People in this country should not, not be able to feed themselves and their children. I know it's a world wide problem, but I live here and I want to help, here.

I imagine if everyone I know were to embrace this idea and join Please Pass the Potatoes what an impact we could have. Now imagine if everyone you know were to embrace this cause? And if everyone they know were to embrace this cause? We could help put food on the table of those who aren't as lucky as we are.

I'm passing this idea along because I want to inspire you to join me by starting your own Please Pass the Potatoes movement. A grass roots effort to to help feed hungry people in our own communities, maybe even in our own neighborhoods.

Solo Reception

2011-10-09T06:29:00.016-05:00

Dani, me, Erich, Cheri

Ready and waiting

Jodi, Madeleine, Joyce

Full House

It's not often we are given the gift of recognizing how blessed we truly are. I glimpsed that Friday night. It was the opening reception for my show; Mind-Field, Creative Explorations, at LaGrange Art Gallery. It was 6 pm and we were ready. My husband, son, daughter, daughter-in-law, the wine, the cheese, the fruit, the cupcakes, all waiting for the first visitors to arrive. Then it was 6:17 and I was beginning to wonder, "where is everyone?" And secretly worrying no one would come.

Then the door opened and it didn't stop opening for quite some time. Two of the first to arrive were Joyce and Jodi, who flew from Boston to help me celebrate my first solo reception. Soon the gallery was packed, and it was a real party, a celebration of artists and art collectors, looking, talking, observing. I was caught up in it all. It was sheer wonderful.

The next day, while walking Max and Mollie, I went into the quiet and thought about what it meant for all those people to take their time and come to the gallery to see me and the world I create on canvas. And I realized, it was love. The love of giving, the love of celebration, the love of being. And this was joy.

Haiku Insomnia

2011-10-04T04:56:00.003-05:00

Insomnia,
you leave me
tired
behind my eyes.

Since I went through chemotherapy, 4 years, 7 months ago, Insomnia has been an unwelcome monthly guest in my bed. She normally arrives between 1:14 - 2:47 am.

While she visits, she talks incessantly and quietly, in my head. As much as I toss, turn, or thrash, she remains comfortably nestled between the passages of my mind, filling me with poetry, conversation, nightmare visions, beauty, questions, answers, everything but sleep.

Eventually she convinces me sleep is simply a verb, and I accept by putting my feet on the ground and getting out of bed, wondering if she will stay another day or two, or disappear until next month.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

2011-09-20T05:22:00.006-05:00

It was Sunday. We were having dinner with friends. The television was on and a football game was playing when I heard the announcer say, "...Michael Vick..." I was appalled and verbally announced my feelings. My friend said, "He paid his debt. He went to prison!"

I believe in forgiveness. I also believe there are some crimes so terrible, once committed; you give up your rights to certain privileges.

In the world of sports, if you are a professional athlete and caught betting, you have given up your right to be in the Hall of Fame. If you are caught taking steroids, you are stripped of your titles. So how is it, in that same world, you can be part of a dog fighting ring, torturing and killing them, and once you've "paid your debt", you are welcomed back into the star status arena of football, and hired to play on a professional team?

Is winning all that matters? What message does that send to the young people that worship the game and thereby, worship the players?

In my opinion, when Michael Vick became part of and profited from a blood lust sport, he gave up his right to be what he is today, a very highly paid professional athlete.

Those that hired him and those that watch and cheer him and those that make money from him, should look into the eyes of any dog and ask, is this right? Is this who we are?

Patience

2011-09-14T05:39:00.006-05:00

Waiting for a treat

I was not born with the patience gene. So along came our cavaliers. And now I have learned the art of patience. Not because they test my patience. But because of how patient they can be.

For example, when Max and Mollie want to play ball, Max will bring the ball, set it at my feet and wait, and wait, and wait. Every time I look at him, he looks back with yearning, seeming to implore me to pick up the ball and throw it! While Mollie sits with a stuffed toy in her mouth, patiently waiting with her brother, for the games to begin. You can guess the rest, eventually, I give in and the two of them fly around the house, Max chasing the ball, Mollie chasing Max.

It's the least I can do to reward their patience.

Titles

2011-09-13T06:24:00.012-05:00

We are the same

My huband made the comment , "I don't know why artists are compelled to title their work."

Often times, when I am working on a piece, a title will present itself. As if the piece is naming itself. It's a method of communicating the message behind the work. Part of the dream vocabulary I rely on and attempt to weave into my work.

Viewer interpretation then takes over. "We are the same", pictured above, on the surface, is two Ibex facing each other. If you apply the title to humans, it suddenly takes on a more complex meaning. A maze of political, religious and physical issues begin to surface. Questions arise. Introspection allows us to view each other more openly, forgiving differences and embracing those innate qualities that makes us who we are.

That's how life should be.

9/11

2011-09-11T14:16:00.007-05:00

I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing, 10 years ago, today. My husband and I were working out, with NBC's Today Show keeping us entertained. When I saw the first plane hit, I thought, as most people, the pilot had lost his/her way. Then I saw the second plane hit and I froze. I realized with a sickening jolt, that both acts were delilberate and we were under attack.

I picked up the phone, dialed our best friends and said, "turn on your tv, we are under attack". Then I watched in stunned silence as the events escalated to the horror that is now woven into the tapestry of our history.

That was when I became addicted to morning news. I could no longer trust that something wicked would not come this way during the night. Now every morning, I turn on the news to see what had happened while I slept. Blessedly, wickedness had been kept away, even today. Regrettably, we can no longer trust that to be true, always.

I'm still deeply affected by those events. The paradox of live and nature, today is an incredibly beautiful day. Sunny, blue sky, wispy clouds and the temperature, a perfect 72 degrees. Nature's tribute to commemorate the 10th anniversary.

I sold one of my pieces today! "We are the same". The buyer now owns six of my pieces. She is becoming my partron. She also happens to be a dear friend, way before I got back into making art.

I'm off to the studio. I'm working on six 16x20" panels. Oil and cold wax. These pieces intrique me. I was looking through photographs my husband had taken of me. My hair had just started to grow back after chemotherapy. It was wild. It grew back a platinum grey and very curly. After having bone straight hair all my life, and suddenly at the youthful age of 54, I finally had the curly hair I envied on other people, I didn't dare hate it, after all, I was coming off of being bald!, so I had to be grateful. Let's just say, I have new sympathy for all you curly tops.

Back to the panels. The central themes are three black & white photographs. I printed them out on 8x11.5 paper and then wrote around the pictures. After collaging them down, I am now in the process of painting them. I'm taking my time. I want to do right by these images. I think they could take my work in a new direction. Actually, they already are.

Today

2011-09-10T16:15:00.011-05:00

My website is up, so I won't be using this blog as a gallery for my work. Please visit http://www.eveozer.com/ to see my work.

Now I can use this blog to journal about my art and my thoughts and share inspirational writings. I deleted all the art posts and was surprised the last time I wrote anything was in 2009! Max as art, well, Max has a little sister, Mollie. So today I am introducing them together. They are a pair. Can't help but smile when I look at them. wouldn't you agree?

-Only this moment is life. -Thich Nhat Hanh

My dogs seem to comprehend this better than me. They truly live in the moment. They have taught me to shed my worries and petty grievances, simply by their presence. Their needs are so simple; love, food and a comfortable lap to sleep on. "And yes, take me out so I can "read the neighborhood newspapers" printed in the grass and do my business."

Max as Art

2009-06-24T16:15:00.005-05:00

I am almost finished with my Exquisite Corpse pieces, good thing, too, as I have to drop them off to the Bloomingdale District Park Museum on Saturday.

For those who don't know what the Exquisite Corpse display is, it started as a parlor game where artists would fold a piece of paper into thirds, the first artist would draw the head, fold it over and hand it to the second artist to draw a torso, the second artist would fold it over and hand it to the last artist to draw the legs. Then they would unfold the paper to discover the "exquisite corpse".

Our Midwest Collage Society decided to use this theme for our upcoming show. Initially I was just going to do a head, but then I got into the "spirit" and ended up with 3 heads, 2 torsos and 2 sets of legs. Over all I am really pleased with my "creations". I will be posting pictures soon.

In the meantime, I offer you the latest picture of our dog, Max. My husband took this picture with his new iphone. Doesn't he look like a piece of art?

Poem

2009-06-03T15:08:00.012-05:00

As I was taking my dog, Max, for a walk this morning, I thought that Mother Nature didn't get the message that it's supposed to be Spring! I could have used a pair of mittens. I saw fathers, (yes, dads) standing on the streets, waiting for the school bus to pick up their precious offspring, arms crossed with sweat shirts on and the kids were hopping up and down, trying to keep warm. So, in keeping with the weather, I wanted to share this poem, which I wrote for my mother in March, 2006, for her birthday:

Breathing the starched crisp morning air,

a bird's song sings me up into the face of the aurora blue sky,

and I see the beginning of another season is here.

Minature buds shyly show themselves

safely captured on the limbsof winter's strip tease bare trees,

calling out the end of this bitter birth cycle.

Rejoice,

they seem to say,

soon the sun will warm us into life, again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The piece above I call OZ, and when you look closely in the upper right window, you can see my dog, Max. Just like Toto, wanting to find a way home.

What is art?

2009-05-20T06:29:00.003-05:00

Had dinner with a good friend last night and the subject of art took up much of our conversation. He has represented some well known Chicago artists and one thing he said , " true art tries to create a new visual language". I thought that was very profound. I went to bed thinking about it, and woke up with it.

I keep a journal and try to write in it every day. This morning I wrote:
- As a form of my inner dialogue, I want my art to be stimulating. Really, i have no clear vision as to where my art is taking me, but i am loving the journey. Free to be free, that's the hardest thing - something is in me and i'm trying to help it come out. I feel it's there - i feel its presence- it's not the Ego, the Ego stops and judges the creative process - it makes the hand stutter-once the Ego is silenced, then i believe, true creativity emerges, that's where i want to be-silence the Ego and let my creative energy take over-that's the struggle. The Ego removes the playful fun-it calculates, therefore, it stifles spontaneity. I want my art to cast a spell on the viewer-captured-entraced-enthralled. Being in a community of artists, I see many of us struggle with making art & a lot of that struggle seems to be around our inability to simply enjoy and relish in the ability to create. We worry too much that our art is not "good enough" which I believe is the Ego, getting in the way and limiting our access to that nebula of creativity we all possess.