Completely Irrational

A funny thing happened today on the way to my artwork, teaching and new journal designs. ​​

I got an email from my Uncle Edwin telling me he had just read my blog. I'll admit that I was concerned about what he might say because 1) he is a published author and 2) he is a retired creative writing teacher. Cool. Scary. But I was amazed by what he did write. "I have looked at all you have posted and am VERY impressed. Yes, that's a shout! What talent and loving is evident in your painting!"

Then came a profoundly simple question. "I wonder if you have found surprises in your work. I mean, when I am writing a poem or a novel, I seldom know what it is leading to, where it will end." He described several candid "bits" about his writing experiences while working on one of my favorite books, Children of the Wind (by Edwin E. Sundt). He said, "The characters did the work. I just wrote down what they were thinking and saying and doing, often without knowing what it was going to be or what would come next."

He also asked me this: "Your paintings (and your words) look as though your inspiration comes from scenes, real or remembered. But is some of your work simply risen from your imagination, reality-based but created anew? I love it and want to see more." Oh, goodness.

After grinning at my computer screen, I wrote this back to him: "Your question about my art-making process is insightful and wondering if it is similar to yours. You describe the discovery of your stories and characters as you sit down "with them" and listen and witness who they are." So, as I Uncle Edwin, "Yes...that is most often how I paint." In fact, just yesterday when I taught a class at the Loveland Museum & Gallery, I tried to describe that dialogue between artist and artwork.

Carl Jung once said that making art involves the irrational part of the brain

(the unconscious mind). Poet Janee Baugher wrote that Jung "studied the

impersonal creative process...and theorized that meditation and detachment of self can lead to a truer kind of art-making. (Boulevard Magazine, "Art to Art: Ekphrasia")

By the way, the happy ending to this short tale is that my uncle asked if would I consider creating

artwork for the cover of his next book... a work in progress. So, can you guess what I said?