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Have you ever tried to solve a mystery? Something in your daily life you can’t quite figure out, but you have a gut feeling about? Have you combined your intuition with some facts surrounding the situation and BAM! you have it the solution. Or have you? Has this ever happened to you?

The Chinese say that intuition is a “second brain”, physically located in your stomach. Hence the “gut feeling” expression.

Most people do not trust their intuition enough! When I try to solve a problem using my intuition, it feels like stepping out on a cloud, walking off a plank, taking a shot at something. It feels a little strange. People think they need facts alone to solve problems and mysteries. That to use intuition could not possible be sound.

But, as I said in the first paragraph, I put some facts with my intuition and…..well, I can solve almost anything. Can you?

Have you ever tried to solve a mystery? Something in your daily life you can’t quite figure out, but you have a gut feeling about? Have you combined your intuition with some facts surrounding the situation and BAM! you have it the solution. Or have you? Has this ever happened to you?

The Chinese say that intuition is a “second brain”, physically located in your stomach. Hence the “gut feeling” expression.

Most people do not trust their intuition enough! When I try to solve a problem using my intuition, it feels like stepping out on a cloud, walking off a plank, taking a shot at something. It feels a little strange. People think they need facts alone to solve problems and mysteries. That to use intuition could not possible be sound.

But, as I said in the first paragraph, I put some facts with my intuition and…..well, I can solve almost anything. Can you?

“Water On Paper 2″, pencil and charcoal on paper, 5″ x 5”, 2014

Ceres Gallery is having a group show. In June. The exact date of the reception is June 26, 6-8 PM. It is a Thursday. The gallery is located in Chelsea, an established gallery section of New York. 547 West 27th Street. New York, NY 10001. Phone: 212 947 6100. The second floor. You can take the stairs, if you prefer.

I did the piece for this group show and am pleased with it. It is based on a painting I did a few years back. The painting had collage in it and the abstraction was based on the spaces in between trees. In the painting, I chose the pieces from magazines, not for their subject matter, but for their potential for volume and how they related to the paint.

The charcoal translation is interesting (bad word, interesting) to me, since the face from the painting comes through as significant here, where in the very large painting, it was just a shape.

I hope some of you can attend my reception! It would be so nice to see you!

Phones. We all have cells. I like those. But the land or “home” phones as they are called, bring with them terrible sales and political calls. The phone rings. We rush to the phone to answer and we get the dreaded waste-of-energy call.

Therefore, it was during a very high stress time in my life, (when is it not?) I asked my husband to make the home phones not ring. Yes, we could call out, but no one could call us at home. To reach us, they would just have to call our cells. We told ourselves we were keeping the land phones for emergencies.

No problem. We had a vast assortment of Motorola, T-mobile and Panasonic phones littering our house. And he timed the ring systems so that the phones didn’t ring. Quiet.

Stress began again when we switched phone carriers. My husband got mad at one of the customer service reps (They will elevate your blood pressure) and out, we yanked ourselves. Oh yes. It caused a great deal of trouble. New internet provider. Had to be installed by coming to the house, new home phone provider, all having to be redone. Our security system in our home was affected too, because we have the older version, the kind that runs through the phone lines. Even our cells, although upgraded for free, were paid for with an eight hour wait to transfer pictures and such.

We were in the store the other day picking out new home phones and my husband said, “All this, for phones that don’t ring?”

We had an ice storm here in Atlanta this past winter. Not a nice storm. Put the separation between the words in the right place. Ice storm. You know the one. We, in Atlanta, looked like fools on TV and the internet.

The storm I am writing about (We actually had two.) started out as a snow storm. Just like any other. But the traffic! Lord, the traffic! And the slipping and sliding!

A person lost his life. A baby was born. It took the average person to move at the rate of one eighth of a mile per hour. If that.

Yes, there was heroism. We Americans always go for that when reporting such horrors. My husband was in his car along with the rest of Atlantans, arriving at his intended destination. He had to turn around because the person he was dropping off at the bus….well, the buses were not running. It took him an hour to turn around and he got home at midnight. He had been driving for twelve hours. To go ten miles. To the bus and home. Ten miles roundtrip.

Because people were frustrated in the crazy traffic, a lot of people left their cars and walked that night. The next day, cars were strewn all over expressways and backroads, abandoned like discarded toys on Christmas Day. It looked like The Rapture or a science fiction movie.

No, my husband did not spend the night in the shelter of a grocery store, using feminine products as a pillow. No, he did not experience the terror of being disconnected from our child because he had no idea if she was at the school or not. No, he did not spend the night in his car with no one knowing, due to a drained charge in his cell.

But it was awful.

I am about to tell you I have broken my planking record at the gym. I know I told you this before, that I could do “the plank” by visualizing being underwater, thus being nicknamed “The Scuba Planker!” And I was at two minutes then. As The Scuba Planker.

Now I can hold that position for six minutes! And I do not have to visualize being underwater anymore.

I expect to walk into the gym one day and I’ll see a plaque on the wall. or worse yet, as I extend my time, I wonder if there will be a Plank Off. Like a Bake Off. Or a Pie Eating Contest. I will be matched with someone and together side by side we will be tested to determine who can hold the plank the longest.

My studio is next to Art Papers, a magazine about contemporary art. The former Editor-In-Chief and Executive Director, Sylvie Fortin, told me that an artist should always, when contributing, donate his/her best work. (Sylvie, by the way, raced me to the hospital one time. It was when a masonite painting I was working on fell, severely damaging the muscle in the back of my leg. I also should point out that Sylvie does not drive. She drove my car, first wheeling me in an office chair to the curb. In addition, she put everything aside to get me there.)

She told me that, by putting your best work out there, especially when you donate artwork, you speak to your audience clearly. As clearly as you would if your work were in a gallery.

This is the piece I have donated to the Hambidge Auction. I posted it recently on Facebook. It is from my solo show “Afloat: An Installation”, New York. This piece is a collage, 5” x 5”, a collage done strictly with magazine pieces, no computer imaging. Or internet sources. It is framed in a white floater frame.

I also posted it in my online exhibition here on WordPress. Where it received the highest “site stat” rating. Which means it received the most “hits” on my blog. 
Even with the inclusion of my post about my friend and mentor, the now famous artist, Peter Forakis which also received very high stats. This piece aced that one.

It is kind of like that song from West Side Story: “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way.” Everything matters. Or don’t do it!

I have to send an image to Ceres Gallery. It is to represent the work I am showing in the solo show for the brochure.

I hate to commit. The show is many months in front of me. And I may still be working on the pieces until they are sent to the photographer. After the photographs are made, it feels permanent. Website, my print books, future reference.

I remember one of my solo shows here in Atlanta, where I put a tube of cadmium yellow light in my purse. Then upon entering the gallery, where my work had been hung, I walked over to the one of my paintings I felt needing a touch up and I dabbed the paint on with my finger. Cameras and all.

In fact, there were a few wet oil paintings in the show for about two weeks. Until they dried. All because I worked on them, up until the last minute.

Another show, I used a ballpoint pen to touch up a collage. It was during the opening reception and people came rushing over to me, sighing when they saw it was “just me.”

Sending in an image (not this one) feels so permanent. But it will have to do.

Calling those 1 800 numbers to get a credit card balance from a store can be a debilitating experience.

I called the J.Jill Store the other day, asking them to send me an official plastic credit card. So as not to carry around the frayed, dog-eared business card with my card number on it. I do carry around this battered card and make purchases, but I thought it nice to have a real credit card. The kind that other people carry around.

That’s it. That is all I wanted. And the only way to get this was to call the number.

What I heard from the Customer Service (?) Representative on the other end was… oh, and I have to say, that getting to this person was a half hour ordeal. (To digress further, one time I was talking into one of those automated phone “service” devices and I slurped my almost empty Green Tea Frappacino and the recording immediately went into Spanish.) Therefore, you see how well the automated system works.

Back to the Customer Service Representative. She said something to the effect that since I was a valued customer, I was entitled to a special offer.

I kind of got excited about this, thinking that maybe I was entitled to some deeply discounted clothing in their Spring Line.

But what do you expect from someone who roboticly asks you, “Is there anything else I can help you with?” after you tell them you are hanging up on them?

The offer: By paying a few dollars a month on my bill, if I should become infirmed, lose my job or pass away, I will not be liable for any unpaid charges on my J.Jill card. For peace of mind, she said. I said I would get peace of mind if I wasn’t talking to her.

But that’s my peace of mind. Her point of view: J.Jill is always with me. Even facing an oncoming truck!


A drawing I did a long time ago!