Wednesday, October 20, 2010

ps.

I'm not in the mental salt flats anymore. Actually, it's a place I left quite some time ago, but I've been too busy catching up with myself and creating to write about it.

I'm enjoying this space within myself. Internal blossoming is taking place.

More words one of these days soon. And until then, you can find me happily painting in a dog-filled, sun-drenched studio.

Namaste,
j.

Friday, August 20, 2010

in the mental salt flats...

Every once in a while--well, actually, on a pretty regular basis--I think of this place. I consider coming here and sitting for awhile. I think about the notion of setting my thoughts down somewhere. I consider taking the time to delve beneath the surface and make sense of something.

But I don't. I haven't. At least not here.

Instead, I sometimes go to my journal. The one made of paper. And, more times than that, I don't even do that.

Life is strange these days. The hobbit castle has been under construction for nearly a month. Once it's finished, construction will soon move to my studio. I don't know what's worse. The big willow tree in our front yard fell down. It fell on a perfectly breathless morning. It was the heart of our home. A true day off feels like a distant dream. A blur of falling green.

These days, the world feels a bit off kilter. It feels a bit white. And flat. And strange.

I also understand that it's a necessary part of the journey and, if I just allow it to be what it is, I think I'll probably find something really interesting and beautiful on the other side of the current terrain. Heck, I'll probably find that in this current landscape--right here, right now. This, of course, requires a certain amount of presence.

A pause. Or flow. A letting go.

This is just a momentary blip--like the time I drove through the salt flats of Utah for the very first time. It was night. The moon was full. Everything was so surreal and flat and white. There was magic in that discomfort and momentary confusion.

Maybe if I just quit fighting with myself so much...I would find strange magic here, too.

~

Monday, April 05, 2010

Being Dramatic :: {Project 44}

60" x 40" :: Oil on Canvas :: Photo of work in progress

This is a sneak peek of my most favorite painting to date (early stages).
It's big. It's dramatic. It felt amazing to paint.

If you live in the Minneapolis area, I invite you to see the finished piece at the
Dogs of Edina exhibition at the Galleria, May 6th-31st, 2010.


For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.
~

Monday, March 29, 2010

Grow :: {Project 44}

Grow :: {Project 44}
Not just a mug, but a daily reminder of the potential in everything.

In living life fully, completely, wholeheartedly...
let's face it, growth is simply inevitable.

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and if they can't find them make them."
~George Bernard Shaw

For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.

~

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Feline Rhapsody :: {Project 44}

Feline Rhapsody :: {Project 44}
photo shoots with animals that I fall in love with...

...this was just one of the colorful gifts from my day.

For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.

~

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

She is Living Her Dream :: {Project 44}

She is Living Her Dream :: {Project 44}
Studio fuse box reminder

Sometimes, while standing at my workbench in the studio, I look up and see this magnet that I stuck on the dirty ol' fuse box that graces the wall...and I remember.

I am living my dream.

Despite grunge and dog hair...
this is one incredible dream.
:)


For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.
~

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Friendship :: {Project 44}

I sat down this morning, with a fresh cup of coffee, opened up my email and this is what I found:

One day years ago a woman found my blog and left me a comment that said something like I have a dog named Anu and I love samosas. Ever since that day those woman's words have resonated so much with me that I thought somewhere along the way we were supposed to cross paths. I miss her writing, but know that her absence in the blog world is due to all the amazing things happening in her life. I have this hope that one day we will meet and become friends. Tonight I was excited to come across her words and images again and I read them and thought about all the things in my life I'm holding back from doing because I'm afraid. And I look at her blog and think here is a living example of a woman taking the dream she had in her mind and making it appear in her daily life. I'm wondering what would happen if I did what she said and got out of my own way.
~from Anu, of Samosas For One

Friendship :: {Project 44}
Studio moment: Anu, my smiling wolfie...looking up at me as I paint.

Well, with that, here's to all the Anu's in the world. Here's to the fearless, smiling wolf in each of us. Here's to being brave on a regular basis. Here's to good friends. Here's to support and encouragement. And, of course, here's to remembering that getting out of our own way is an on-going process.

Because the thing about living our dreams is that it pushes and nudges and challenges us in ways that sometimes we can't even imagine. Growth doesn't stop with the first bloom, rather it's just the beginning! It's exhaustive, really. But once we've tasted the good life of turning dreams into a tangible substance, well...there's really no going back. And that's the real danger.

There's just no turning back.
The gifts of authenticity are irrevocable.

And so thank god for good friends along the way.


For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.
~

Monday, March 22, 2010

Workaholic :: {Project 44}

Hi, my name is Jessie. Is it possible that I'm a workaholic?

Don't answer that.

~

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Sunday Studio, Sunshine Version :: {Project 44}

There's only one thing I want to do today: and that is to paint in beams of sunlight.

Sunny Canvas :: {Project 44}
Stretching canvases. Raw beauty.

Sunny Workbench :: {Project 44}
Filling Etsy orders with Brilliant Red Happiness and Art for Dogs.

Echo in Edina :: Sunshine Version {Project 44}
Oil on Canvas, Completed Painting.


For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.

~

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Introducing :: {Project 44}

I've come to the realization that there is just not enough of me to go around. I've also decided that, despite my intense schedule over the next month and a half, blogging is not something I want to give up. After all, I am a blogger. I like blogging and I want to continue. This blog has become a record of my life since 2004, but I've nearly disappeared from this space over the past several months. I hate to see that happen and, well, I want back in.

This space grounds me. It is the more intricate, yet simple parts of myself. I blog to stay connected--to both my interior self and to the tribe of like-minded souls that I have found here. I blog because it adds depth and dimension to my days. It helps me to understand, to let go, to process, to remember. I blog because it helps me to more deeply experience my journey.

These days my path has led me to an art-filled life. I am thriving. My art is thriving. My spirit is thriving. And in the midst of all this thriving, I find myself consumed by the tasks of preparing for my biggest solo exhibition to date. It is exciting and overwhelming all in one fell swoop.

In 44 days I will be given the keys to more than 2,000 square feet of gallery space and nearly enough wall space to go from one end of a football field to the other. This is my life in hyper-speed.

And yet...I find myself wanting to record these days, to take the time to slow down just long enough to capture my daily experiences, even if only in the fraction of a second unveiled by the click of my camera lens.

{Project 44} is made up of bits and pieces of me, of my day, of the world that surrounds me. It is made up of the 44 days from now until I begin hanging my next show on May 2nd, 2010. It is my life as an artist, dog lover, writer, coffee drinker, and person. It might be haphazard--a few words or a sentence, an image, a moment, a canvas in process--it will be made up of whatever I have to offer on any particular day. Whether my day be haggard or inspired or a little bit of both. These are simply glimpses of me: intimate and real.

Welcome to {Project 44}

Studio 3/20 :: {Project 44}
Day NUMERO UNO of Project 44 and a peek into my studio.
Finally putting the finishing touches on the second panel of a painting I started nearly a year ago.


Spring Vineyard Unveiled 3/20 :: {Project 44}
Vineyard life: Finally, the many feet of snow has melted and the vineyard, once again, is revealed.


For more glimpses:
{Project 44} on Flickr
Visit my website at www.StrayDogArts.com

Follow me on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/jessie.marianiello
and become a Facebook fan of Stray Dog Arts.

~

Friday, February 19, 2010

catching up... POST #1000!!

Hello, old friends. It is time. Time for a new blog post because the world is whisking by me once again and there is only me to decide when to put my foot down and stop myself for just one holy second and say HELLO! :)

It is a sunny morning outside. The dogs are asleep on the couch and I have a growing to-do list in my head. These days, life is in full bloom. Hell, I even have roots busting out of the bottom of my metaphorical flower pot and we still have 4 feet of snow!

For now, let me just say that I'm here. I'm here and am preparing for my biggest show ever. I'm here and am venturing into one of the biggest and scariest and most exciting moments of my artistic career so far.

I would like to start blogging more again. Perhaps I'll just write short ditties. I've been getting good at that on Facebook. Just something to record this journey--and all its highs and lows. Believe me, there are many of them!

Recently I've been granted a 2,000 square foot gallery space in one of the most upscale locations in the Minneapolis area for the month of May. No charge, with massive marketing as an added perk. I'm also working with a long list of businesses that will be creating events throughout the month around my artwork. If ever I've been given a chance to grow as an artist, a business, and a person...it is now. Holy crap--and I think I'm gonna need a seat belt.

I never in a million years expected my life to look like this. Yesterday I found out that I did not get a major fellowship that I had applied for. I have to admit that I really wanted it. $50,000. It was going to solve a lot of problems and give me some much needed artistic freedom. Despite the MAJOR odds, a wildly self-confident part of me was expecting to get it. But no. Nope. Not this time. Instead I got a rejection letter from them. The rest of the mail included several thank you cards from clients. These cards went way beyond thoughtful. I wanted to lay down in the snow and cry and laugh all at the same time. Ok, I admit, I did...but I waited until I got to the studio and did it there instead. I realized that I can make my life look any way I want it to. In just one day so many things happen.

Lately, every day has been filled to the gills with new opportunities and struggles, all at the same time! I've decided that success is coming...but I think I'm better off not having any expectations on HOW it's going to get here. This wild and surreal life. Sometimes it is an interesting challenge just to get out of my own way.

Peace sista friends.
j.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Upon waking...






The result of last night's magic-in-the-making.

~

from the studio to the house at night...

Nearly 1 am and I've just finished a painting. Tight shoulders, heavy eyes, a mug full of "Tranquil Dream" tea sitting to my left. I kinda like working late at night, although my body does not agree. Upon leaving the studio, the first thing I do is look for coyotes standing in the shadows. I've yet to meet one eye to eye, but they are alive and well, living in the woods just beyond our house. I hear them often, but not so much since the deep snows came. Tonight, rather than coyotes, I was surprised a thick mist that filled the air above me, like a plume. It came from out of nowhere and, immidiately clung thickly to the branches and pine needles of the trees. In the two minutes that it takes me to walk from my studio to the house, it happened. Instantaneous.

I do not doubt that this strange night magic is the result of so much snow, another warm day and then a quick drop in temperature. Even so, explanations never seem to detract from the unexpected phenomenon of the night.

Lately, it seems that being outside at night is when my exterior environment feels most unexplored. In the process, my interior environment takes on a much desired newness. I feel a deep need to travel, but without the means or time to do so, I'm beginning to feel a bit cagey. At night though, everything feels different. It feels adventurous, a delicious sense of danger in the winter air and dark shadows. The crystalline edges of things, like the space around the stars, feels sharper. The crunch of snow is more audible, as though one can hear the breaking of each tiny crystal. Being outside in the cold stillness of night draws out another side of things--revealing unexpected beauties, little mysteries--the invisible is made visible. Air turns to ice. In the walk between studio and home, I feel my thoughts sneak out of my skull for just a moment... and it is refreshing.

I'm greeted at the door of the house by sleepy dogs, warmth and a hungry cat. In two minutes, worlds apart.

~

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Barometric mysteries...

Last night I stood outside under an inky black sky and reveled at the cascade of glitter that hung above me from the branches of our old willow tree. I used to be a florist and remember the bunch of holiday artificials that we had in boxes--dipped in glitter, their long flexible branches were meant to simulate some semblance of a winter wonderland. I stood there feeling amazed that the world we live in really is made of such wonderment. That is, if we choose to see it, if we take time to notice it.

This morning when I woke up, those same branches out my window were covered in nearly an inch of glitter. Some strange barometric mystery took place during the night--something that caused our entire world to be coated in a thick coat of magic. Looking out over the frozen pond and beyond, I am a bit mesmerized by the layers of beauty in the snow globe that I just happen to live in.

Today my dog Louie and I have a photoshoot in downtown Minneapolis for an upcoming feature article. I'm excited and a bit nervous all at once. I have to bring my youngest dog, Ella, with also. Vinny is out out of town on a business trip and I won't have an assistant to help me with the handling of 2 young dogs, downtown parking, a five foot painting and a big easel. It sometimes amazes me how I constantly find myself just outside of my comfort zone. It's an interesting feeling. This sort of discomfort combined with such extreme morning beauty...strange alchemical combinations. Sometimes life feels sort of surreal.

At the moment, my world is unusually quiet. These past couple weeks I have done a lot of untangling in my life. I'm still untangling. Mostly in the form of clutter and financial paperwork. I found an incredible bookkeeper, Jessica Reagan Salzman of Heart Based Bookkeeping, who I am looking forward to venturing into 2010 with--both as an accountant and a money coach. I have been wishing to find someone like her for such a long time now. It goes to show that one should never give up on their wishes. Sometimes the right person, the right place, the right circumstances...it all takes time. In overcoming my fear of numbers and money, I've needed someone like Jessica to work alongside me. Someone who understands. Someone who gets it. Someone skilled at the fine art of weaving love and numbers.

Every day feels like a lesson in bravery. I wake up, unclench my teeth and begin again. Last night I went over to the studio late and drew out the canvases of three dogs: Sadie, Chloe and Scout. I haven't picked up my paint brushes since finishing my last commissioned portrait that was delivered for Christmas. The break has been wonderful and necessary. I've accomplished a lot in these last two weeks. But for the past couple days I've been feeling my heart reaching for color and paint and canvas. If I go for too long without painting I feel a strange ungrounding. The glitter in the trees gets too glittery and I find myself seeking the sunshine and solidness of my studio floors.

Today will be made up of camera lights, paperwork and paint--a fine combination, if you ask me. Solidly rooted under glittering trees. Today expands and grows.

~

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Little Miracles...

I woke up this morning to snow and wind. A lovely combination, actually--especially when you have a nice big mug of coffee with cream. The wind is made even more enjoyable by the fact that we were about to run out of water again. Wind! I have grown to love it. Our water is gravity fed from a well, which we fill by turning on our incredibly out-dated windmill that stands at the top of the hill on the edge of the vineyard. It's quaint, actually. We just weren't aware of how problematic it would be. Or maybe this year the wind has just been exceptionally still. I don't know and I don't care. Mostly, I just love the way the wind makes those blades spin, causing the pump to respond in a miraculous up and down motion.

And with that little description I just need to take a moment and say: Wow, I've missed writing here. I know...I seem say that every time I finally sit down to blog. The the feeling is truly as satisfying as drawing water into a nearly dry well.

For the past 10 days I have been working diligently on bringing order, understanding and growth into my life. After we moved this summer, I got sick and then, before I knew it, nearly 6 months passed and I still hadn't unpacked my office! That in itself seems sort of crazy. I mean, how did my life get so freakishly busy? My business exploded. It has been incredible and yet...well, I was quickly running myself into the ground and the state of my office was driving me crazy.

After delivering my last commissioned painting for Christmas, I hit the much needed "pause" button in order to give my attention to a few behind-the-scenes necessities. Things like paper work and the state of my office, pricing and other works in progress. The change around me has been extraordinary. For the first time since moving, my office space actually feels calm. My cats love it so much, they won't leave and, often, I find myself surrounded by the soft sleeping breathing of my animal menagerie. It is a supremely comforting feeling. It grounds me. Even my collection of found rocks and old wooden crates (which I've converted into bookshelves) feels comforting. I thought I wouldn't be happy until I had new flooring and new cabinets and new this and perfect that. Turns out I was wrong. The things in this room hold warmth. They hold my history. They hold the pieces of me that bring me back to center. The sheepskin thrown across the seat of a chair, the rich silk textiles that I brought back home with me from India, my books, a wedding photo of Vinny and I, the soft glow of lamplight...yes, this feels like me. And it feels good.

Granted, this has been a huge process and I still have more ahead of me. Going through so many boxes and pile after pile of paperwork sort of made my brain feel like it was being dragged across a bed of nails. Now I've moved on to the thing that has given me more fear than anything else: financial paperwork. Wowzers. And it won't stop there.

All I can say is that it's happening. It's finally happening. I don't know what took me so long to finally work up the courage to take control of these aspects of my life, but I am relieved to finally be doing it--even if I have to nudge myself forward over and over again. I hear myself chanting to myself in the back of my head and am impressed by the level of support I give myself. For the most part my brain is acting like my very own guardian angel. Or maybe I really do have a spirit guide sending little whispers of support and motivation. Forward movement requires a bit of discipline and, yet, if there is one thing that the past two years has taught me it is discipline. Along with discipline, what I'm really learning now are the virtues of self-care.

Two years ago I began the Be Brave Project and started on a journey towards a life that I never in a million years dreamed of. These days I find myself in the midst of beginning this journey all over again. It's time to start taking risks again. Not just the little kind, but the sort that makes me feel a few butterflies; the kind that makes my face go a bit flush. Change requires risk-taking. You would think that it would be easier this time around. After all, I've proven to myself that I can make anything happen when I really want it. Oh, man(!)...but it is still so incredibly scary! Brave souls, we need to band together.

These days I am taking it one step at a time. Lots and lots of little steps. In an odd way, even taking time to blog is one of those little steps. This new beginning, it's a package deal. There is something for me on the other side of this--and I'm simply too curious to stop now.

~

Monday, January 04, 2010