to be moved…

“Emptiness is the track on which the centered person moves” -Tibetan saying


I have worked out what’s going on

with these letters to no one

published and forgotten.

I am testifying

purifying through action


throwing breadcrumbs…bending branches

marking trunks …writing on walls

getting lost

leaving a shul


I had the pleasure of coming upon this picture

…yes, I was aimlessly peeling

pinterest’s onionesque layers

seeking that moment

no one can absolutely explain

when you experience something

that inspires intimacy

an object or work of art

a piece of writing

a surface, a piece of music

…wanting to be moved

Untitled (A Painting in Two Parts) (Part 1) 1896  – Cy Twombly

and there it was

like the rush of a drug

but better…purer…

like everything that is beautiful and terrible

within this existence encloses you completely

and you feel the perfection of everything

you disappear for a moment

and for a couple of seconds

you understand why you are here

it all makes sense


I’m only looking at an image of this work

what must it be like to stand with such a piece

to set aside the fact that it was painted by a great artist

and all the weight that comes with that

to put away all ideas of whether you think it is good or bad

to just stand there and look

even in reproduction

it holds a raw energy


these pieces, when I find them

leave a shule in me

they teach me how to look

they confirm what I am seeking

they remind me why I continue to work

why I want to engage in a dialogue

with artists living and dead

to be part of the conversation

that is art


(Tibetan: shul, “a mark that remains after that which made it has passed by,the scarred hollow in the ground where a house once stood, the channel worn through rock where a river runs in flood, the indentation in the grass where an animal slept)











on being ok…

…speaking of doing

I have been finding it difficult

to start working again after the holiday break

I’ve hit the point where the rubber must hit the road

where you stop imagining what you might do

and get on with the business of doing it


my cupboard is a little bare

whilst others around me seem to have

of personal cornucopia of inspiration

little drawers stuffed to the brim

ideas dropping from pockets…

“I’m just having so much fun in the studio”

“working on 10 paintings”

“I’m banging the work out”


greedy fuckers…


I’ll let you in on a little secret

I have no idea what I am doing

I just show up, and I wait

I busy myself

stare at things for hours

until what I need to do

reveals itself

if it doesn’t I am grumpy as hell

and I am just as surprised as anyone else

when something good my way comes

in the mean time….

chopping wood – carrying water


we like to pretend that it is all

inspiration, inebriation and intuition

it’s a myth we all agree to

but it seems to be more about living it

to the point where I don’t see it

as something I have to do

just show up and be ok

when all you can do is clean your brushes

or read a great book

follow a lead down a rabbit hole, watch bad TV

or troll pinterest to remind myself

of what it is that I like

not expecting

that what I like

will actually appear in my work

being ok with that.


when there is no separation

between the Artist and my Self

I forget what I cannot do

and I am curious

and that is always a good sign


“I am not what I am

I am what I do with my hands”

Louise Bourgeois 


detail  – the zen garden (of good and evil)

glorious mistakes


casualty – lisa arronis (wax,shotgun and pigment on paper)

greetings faceless internet

I spent the holidays cleaning my studio…house…life

(as you do)

and hanging art I have collected over the last couple of years

(long overdue)


there are moments between making

(obligatory holidays…visitors…stuff)

…like the new years studio clean up

(that thing you do while you wait for the return of your mojo)

where you imagine the work you might make this year

and there is a sense of anticipation…possibilities

it is delicious


I am curious about my ability

to navigate my new found freedom

(terrifying… liberating)

what course should I set myself

now that my course is over?


when artists teach you art

unbound by establishment

it is intimate and strange

you’re in their studios

you make their marks

(if you’re lucky you see this)

you stare at their work

(greedy… desperate for a clue)

you change your work because they tell you to

always seeking approval


all the while, I suspect

they are just hoping

that you will just get it

that you will find your stride

that you will take what you have learned

and find your own way

and make your own glorious mistakes

and so I shall…


“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes,

then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living,

pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world.

You’re doing things you’ve never done before,

and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.

So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself.

Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes.

Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before.

Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough,

or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.”

– Neil Gaiman

(thanks Neil, I needed to hear that)


well hello again…

its been more than a year since I wrote…

I have finished art school

and reluctantly decided

I will not have a rebound relationship

with another institution


so as I unshackle myself

from the roll of perpetual student

my choices seem to be

artist or crazy cat lady

and as my husband is allergic to felines

I feel it is my duty to choose artist.


I know I promised to keep in touch

and maybe you won’t read this

but I’m going to write it anyway


these letters…

to no one in particular

(but to you, at this present time, dear reader)

will tell the story

of one who has decided to

“stop thinking, worrying, looking over (my) shoulder,

wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, numbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding, grinding, grinding away at (myself).

Stop it and just DO”

here is the frustratingly perfect Benedict Cumberbatch

reading Sol’s letter to Eva to celebrate our renewed contact

very good advice…