The Tour de Lor

"Movement at the Marsh"
9"x12'
acrylic on canvas

Last Saturday I set out early to Supawana Meadows to paint the marsh area again. Guided by my great wisdom I decided to stand amongst the reeds in the dirt. As the bugs devoured my flesh and my pochade box sank into the mud, I considered how much I had yet to learn about painting en plein air.

Later that weekend I cycled with my favorite group from The Peddler's Shop. After we rode for about 20 miles I was asked if I would be riding Breakneck Road. Only the diehards were going, as it is a few miles of a series of difficult inclines. Of course I would ride "Breakneck". Of course.

When Monday rolled around I thought it would be a good idea to really work hard at the gym because obviously I was feeling great. Now was the time to get in top form Now was also the time to get my art business going and to schedule meetings with galleries and book days for my booth. I was making business commitments left and right. I should have been committed.

Tuesday I bonked. The "Tour de Lor" had come to an end. Even Lance Armstrong went downhill sometimes. Didn't I just say that when you feel like you are going up the down escalator you should switch directions? Many posts ago I advised smelling the roses and taking time just to "be". Well, it goes to show you that even I, who should know better, got sucked in to the race.

The desire to be the best and move forward can be a force that drives you right into the ground. It can drain the joy out of your favorite activities. Left unchecked, it can make you lose sight of your purpose. I'm guilty, guilty, guilty.

I share this little lament because I want you to see that all that glitters is not gold. So many lovely folks send me emails telling me how great I'm doing and how they are inspired. Maybe if you know the mistakes I make you'll stop yourself before you do the same.

Life is so very short. Yes, that sentence has been played out. However, it doesn't mean that you should fill every minute with busyness in order to be really living. It means being present and aware of each precious moment, enjoying what you are doing not just working to cross off another task on your "to do" list.

I just threw my list away. Screw it.

By the Bridge

Above:
"The Storm That Passed"
pencil drawing in moleskine sketchbook

Below:
"The Storm That Passed"
6"x9"
acrylic on paper

Nature was giving me a hint of its power by pushing my car around with the force of its gusty winds as I sketched from the safety of the driver's seat. Somehow life seems so much clearer when I sit by the water as it changes rapidly there. No matter how threatening the weather seems, the clouds always break to show the beautiful blue sky behind. Why is it on a dark stormy day we tend to forget how quickly the sun comes out again? It always comes back to shine. Always.

I'm starting to fall in love with this spot by the bridge. The structure is constant but the scene forever changes. I could paint it every day of my life and never run out of new ways of seeing it. It is sort of like life I guess. When I was younger I thought at a certain point I would have life pretty well figured out and I would just be following some sort of plan. Now, I realize there is no real plan and every day things change and the view is different. That being said, I truly don't understand when people say they are bored. Perhaps they are not looking hard enough.

One Man's Trash

"Not So Distant Threat"

9"x12"

acylic on canvas

My Saturday morning routine is simple. At 6AM I make a special treat of my version of french toast made with the healthiest of ingredients to give me energy for the next few hours painting en plein air. This past Saturday was no exception and the morning promised to be great as it was cool, crisp and clear for a July morning. I planned to paint marshes so that I would have three versions completed. However, when I got to the site I yearned to paint, the traffic was so heavy I feared it would not be wise to stand on the shoulder of this busy road.

I then decided to paint on the beach in Elsinboro but a voice in my head directed me down Ft. Elfsborg Road. No marshes were to be found but there on my right was the smoke plume of the nuclear plant lit by the morning sun overlooking the farmland of Salem County. It reminded me of my cancer in that it was something ominous yet beautiful. I had to paint it. As I set up I kept wondering who the heck would want a freaking painting of the nuke plant and therefore why should I paint it. I just knew I had to paint it even if it collected dust in the studio.

As the birds sang and that little bee came around that follows me to every painting site, a handsome cyclist stopped to admire my work. It turns out that he worked at the plant and mentioned that the executives would contact me about owning such art for the corporate offices. Once he peddled off a local farmer came by and thanked me for creating such a lovely piece about the beauty of his backyard. He mentioned how he loves how the light changes the color of the cooling tower. Another fellow stepped out of his house to wave and give me the thumbs up. Two phrases entered my mind. "Build it and they will come" and "one man's trash is another man's treasure."

(Please pardon the skewing of the horizontal landscape. I was too close to the painting when I photographed it.)

Nobody Screams Get Me An Artist

"View From the Top"
pencil sketch in moleskine sketchbook

While I waited over an hour for my doctor and his entourage to come into the room yesterday, I sketched the Liberty Place buildings, as seen from the window of the 15th floor, Penn Tower of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital. It only took me a few minutes, the rest of the time I spent reading the articles in the Philadelphia Weekly. It was so funny to watch him and all the other white coats walk by, quickly peaking in the room to watch me draw. Isn’t it funny how attracted people are to creativity in progress yet so many avoid it themselves out of fear. My dear Dr. Schuster was going on about how he loved to draw and was often told to pursue art. I asked him why he never did, while he was right in my face feeling under my arms and around my chest for swollen lymph nodes. He looked deeply into my eyes with his eyes looking somewhat crazed and said, “because everyone screams ‘get me a doctor’ not ‘get me an artist’.” I laughed. Maybe if we all screamed for artists and creative release we wouldn’t need the doctors.

The Big R!

Yup, you guessed it.

REMISSION!

I was surprised and beyond elated today that the doctors used that word. It wasn't supposed to be discussed for a couple more months. I just can't believe it. However, after much discussion amongst all the guys with the letters after their names, they all agreed it was true. It was also commented that they haven't seen anyone with such rapid healing in the radiation damaged site before. Doctors were asking ME what I was doing. I told them exercise, flax oil and prayer. I wonder if that will go in the medical books. Doubtful. Seems like I had the last word though and we all know how I love that.

To all my friends and family, thank you again for your prayers and support. You rode that roller coaster with me and for that I'll always be thankful.

A quick "shout out" to my buddies Vicki, Dave and Joe for their quick and joyful communication today. Isn't it interesting how new friendships are formed and old ones strengthened during times like this?

Be well everyone!

Changing Weather

Above:
"The Storm That Wasn't"
pencil sketch in moleskine book

Below:
"The Storm That Wasn't"
acrylic on paper
6"x9"

The other night I saw a storm approaching and quickly put my supplies into my car and rushed to Riverview Beach Park to do another study about the Delaware Memorial Bridge. It started to get dark and dreary with this strange orange glow peaking through as the evening approached. The excitement that a pending storm brings set in as I began to work. However, it never happened. The clouds built then quickly broke apart. No rain, not even a rumble of thunder. Folks continued to walk their dogs and life went on as usual as it does on a warm summer evening in the park.

I couldn't help but think about my own storm that never happened. I'm still trying to get that feeling of foreboding out of my mind. Just like when the weatherman predicts a massive weather event and it doesn't come to fruition, we all seem to talk about what could have been and breathe a collective sigh of relief. Sigh.

On a lighter note, I listened to the weatherman this morning. He said Salem County would miss the early morning rain. I laced up and went for my morning constitutional. He was wrong. I finished my last mile in a drenching downpour. I laughed the entire way home.

Up the Down Escalator

"Marsh Reflections"

9"x12"

acrylic on canvas

"Marsh Reflections" was painted en plein air alongside the road right near Fort Mott. It was one of those days that no matter what I did I felt like I was fighting a losing battle. I tried to head out early to paint but everything delayed my leaving the house. Then upon setting up my work station (see the above photo taken during painting "Morning Marsh") the flies came at me with a vengeance. The breeze shifted, which brought the flies and a very fishy smell. I refused to quit. Smacking biting flies off my legs and wishing I had brought sun screen I tried to stay focused. Then, in the distance, I hear a strange rumble interrupting the quiet still of the marsh. It grew louder. This did not bode well. Suddenly an 18 wheeler came flying down the road like it was on the interstate. This is a dead end road. Even though I was safely on the dirt shoulder the ground shuddered beneath me and my disposable palette flipped up and paint was everywhere. I continued painting. Then a cyclist, with quite the kit I must say, swerved awfully close to me because HE WAS ANSWERING HIS CELL PHONE! Ok people, if you are on your bike for some exercise and nature, stay the frig off your phone! Folks are funny. I got bitten one more time by a fly and a bee buzzed in my ear and I cursed loudly and packed up to finish the piece at home. Enough was enough. I didn't go through chemo and radiation to be killed on the side of the road for my art.

The lesson here is that if you feel like you are trying to run "up" the "down" escalator, change directions. Seriously, this is a very important lesson to learn. If you are feeling like no matter what you do you just can't make progress it is time to reevaluate and find something else to do. Life is not supposed to be that hard. I swear.

(Blogger is doing weird things with spacing today...please excuse that.)

Worn Through

"Worn Through"
18"x24"
acrylic on canvas

Back in 2005 I went for a stroll in Elsinboro Beach , Salem County. It is a strange place of beauty that is somewhat overshadowed by the nuclear plant lurking in the distance. I feel a certain pull to go there as I find an interesting juxtaposition between what is natural and what man has created. While walking along the beach that day I saw this little hole in the built up sand that the water had worn a path through. Rocks were perfectly lined up to direct the eye to this little natural bridge of sorts. It begged one to look at what was on the other side. I photographed it and did a tiny oil sketch of it in hopes of doing a larger piece later.

Last week after I received the news that perhaps the lymphoma beast was back, I pulled out that little sketch. I was full of anger, frustration and frankly rage. I felt just like that little hole in the earth so tread upon, so very worn. I feared I had nothing left to give to this cancer project. For the first time in this process I was terrified to be hopeful. Taking it out on the painting was the only thing I could think to do. At times it was just too painful to continue as I abstracted this image into something that was beyond just an opening in the earth.

As I look at it now I realize that despite my feeling of despair the colors are vibrant and there is a ton of energy in the piece. One cannot feel true anger at something that doesn't matter so for me the fight still obviously had meaning. Once I saw what was before me I was at peace with whatever fate dealt me. I realized I was not as worn through as I thought.

Being a very blessed individual, once again I was given a reprieve. The report came in today that my new scan shows less cellular activity than back in February. This means that it is the highest likelihood that what shows now on the screen is scar tissue and not active tumor. If my next test in 8-12 weeks shows the same or better information the word "remission" will finally be used. Another high possiblity is "cure" but that won't be mentioned for quite a few more years. I do believe now that I will hear that word as well.

I feel like I've won the lottery. I have my friends and family who stood by me every step of the way to thank for strength to keep moving forward.

Thank you everyone for your prayers. As you can see they worked.

How's the Fishin'?

"Morning Marsh"
9"x12"
acrylic on canvas

Sunday morning I was along the roadside of Supawna Meadows painting my little heart out. Last year I saw this little marsh area and knew that someday I would paint it. I have taken many photographs of it but never did they speak to me like standing there. Now that I am a newbie plein air painter I have the freedom of capturing what I see without needing a camera.

I think painting en plein air is so good for teaching one to truly be in the moment. Throughout my life I've always struggled with the concept. I've wasted much time thinking ahead or going over the past while the present just slipped away. As I painted "Morning Marsh" there was no time for anything but putting juicy paint on the canvas. With each passing minute the tide changed and my little mounds of mud were taking on a different look entirely. The light shifted. A blue heron flew into my scene and distracted me. I was stung by a little bee. Not one little second could be wasted on worry or planning. I was forced to just be and do. Truly a beautiful thing.

However, there was one moment that broke the spell. Two good old boys pulled up in their well used pickup truck. They glanced at my painting then walked right over to me in front of my painter's box and asked, "How's the fishin' here?" I'll refrain from comment.

The Lord Giveth...

"Waiting for You"
acrylic on paper
9"x12"

He sure do taketh away too. Well, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic but some weeks it seems as the good definitely comes with the bad. This week I'm happy to say I completed 3 paintings and touched up two old pieces that just needed a little love. I would consider that an extremely productive week in the studio. The art was flowing and it was good.


The above sketch and painting was created at Riverview Beach Park in Pennsville one evening as I was being eaten by noseeums. More perils of painting en plein air. I think it was worth it though. I feel this piece captured what I saw and felt as the day was ending. I'll post the other works later in the week. Don't want to give it to you all at once and spoil you.


So now you are wondering what could be the bad part of the week. Well, I wouldn't say it was bad necessarily, just frustrating. It seems my scan last week, the one that was supposed to declare my cancer finally in remission, came back sort of "questionable". It leaves the good doctors wondering if they got the beast the first time. If they didn't it means some pretty ugly treatment for Lori. However, I cannot get too upset yet as they just don't know. I need another type of scan now and perhaps more blood work to make them feel better. Maybe I should have named this post "Waiting". Or perhaps, "GIVE ME A FREAKING BREAK ALREADY!!!"! I prefer the later.


So, nobody get nervous, it's not time for that yet. Basically I've learned to roll with the punches. I get upset for a day and even dance with the devil. However, I never dance long or let him lead. This is when things get challenging, when you are not actively battling the c-funk and waiting. If I am to survive this stupid thing I must be resilient and focus on all my joy. That focus got me 3 new paintings. It's a good thing...Martha would agree.

Perils of Plein Air

"Curious Shed"
9"x12" acrylic on panel

I watched videos of people painting outdoors many times. I've witnessed it as a passer by many times. However, I've only done it myself a few times. The few times I did it I was alone and hidden from other people and very close to my car. This time was different.

I went to the park last week and quickly sketched this old shed in someone's yard on the edge of the park. I liked how mysterious it looked. Due to the tree cover everything had a green cast. I did 4 sketches and have shared one with you as seen above though I changed the composition in the painting. I was excited to go back the next day and paint. Stamina, or lack there of, still requires that I do things in stages.

So the following day I happily walked through the park with my little painting supplies and folding chair. Like Superman changing in a phone booth I had everything ready to go in a flash. I had practiced in the comfort of my studio a few times so I wouldn't look like a complete fool in public. Right. I sit down and begin my session as a newly liberated painter of living nature. Masterpiece here I come.

Ok, nobody warned me that the birds beautiful songs would make me want to daydream. Not a soul mentioned how the ducks would find "my space" to be an interesting place to check out and beg for food. Let's not talk about the mosquito that had lots to say in my ear. I also won't mention the numerous ladies that came by to tell me about their very talented children that love to "do art". Basically, I was not prepared for the required focus of painting en plein air.

Needless to say I refused to come home with nothing. I worked feverishly so that the acrylics would not dry before I got to smoosh them around on the panel. In about 3 hours I finished the above painting. I felt as I had worked for 13. I was exhausted but in a good way. The experience was exhilarating and educational. I just love being outside and want to develop this skill so I can travel everywhere and paint the loveliness right in front of me. I have a long way to go before I'm comfortable with doing this but overall I don't see it as a bad start.

I have great hopes of making another attempt a painting at Riverview Beach Park in Pennsville, NJ this week. Feel free to stop by and tell me about your great Aunt Martha who does watercolors on Sundays.

Come and Sit Here

"Come and Sit Here"
9"x12"
acrylic on paper

As promised, here is the companion painting to the ACEO I shared with you in my last post. (By the way, it has been sold.) The color is close but it seems the camera lost some of the purples and reads them as black. It is close enough as I want all my energy to be spent painting, not playing with Photoshop.

I enjoy painting on water color paper. There is something freeing about it. I look forward to experimenting with texturing the paper first and heavily layering paint and scumbling to allow the previous layers to show through. I am developing this new style in acrylic. I am trying to express another side of myself, perhaps the less obvious and more "layered" side. Acrylic is so different from oils that it requires me to paint in a completely different manner. I like it as I have no expectations as of yet. It is far more immediate and requires me to be in the moment much more because if I don't work super fast it dries and I must start all over. It is less about blending and far more about layering. Feel free to let me know what you think about it.

I will continue to do my pet portrait work in the more detailed and realistic style using oil on canvas. That will never change. I've received some emails asking if I am back to accepting commissions. The answer is YES. How else do you expect me to afford to feed poor Gracie?

In my next post I will share my trials and tribulations with my first true painting "en plein air" with my new pochade box. So c'mon back.

ACEO Fun

"Come Sit Here"
3.5"x2.5" ACEO
colored pencil on bristol

ACEO stands for Art Cards, Editions and Originals. These are 3.5"x2.5" works of art in any medium that are bought, sold and traded amongst artists and patrons. They can be found on most auction sites like eBay and Etsy. They are often very inexpensive and a great way to own a little piece of your favorite artist's work. You can also find them by typing in ATC (Artist Trading Cards) in the search field on auction sites. Proper matting and framing can turn these miniatures into something quite grand.

Art cards for trading have quite a history. During the 16th century they were used as "wallet photos" of a man's mistress. They were detailed nudes that the man carried around without his wife knowing. Today men just surf the net for internet porn. I guess not much has changed.

I am not certain if I will make a habit of creating such little works but I just might. However, I did take great joy in playing with the format and trying my hand in it. If you would like to purchase my ATC of "Come Sit Here" please contact me. The scene is from the park in Pennsville, on a lovely breezy evening, looking out at the Delaware Memorial Bridge. My pup Gracie sat at my feet while I sketched in my Moleskine. Then I came right home and did the colored pencil version. I probably will do a larger version in acrylic on paper some time this week.

Why not try your hand at this age old tradition. Go on...I dare ya to have some fun!

On Being Precious

Top:
"Under the Bridge"
on site sketch in my moleskine journal
Delaware Memorial Bridge, Pennsville

Bottom:
"Under the Bridge"
9"x6" acrylic on paper

If perception is reality then what does it mean to treat one's work as being precious? For me it means taking things much too seriously. Art making is a gift and is meant to be made with passion and excitement. Too often we are afraid of judgment and therefore every stroke must be perfect. This is where many artists run into blocks of their creativity. If every step is scrutinized the joy is lost. There is a fine line between taking care with a brushstroke and killing it before it ever hits the canvas.

It all comes down to enjoying the process. This is my mantra of late. With my energy limited, every moment of my day must be cherished. There no longer is time for drudgery. I've always enjoyed my work but now it is crucial.

Perception

This is Carlton. Big biker dude with serious ink covering his body, long hair and a belly that has enjoyed a few beers. He's a Vietnam Vet. Would you shy away from him at a party or sit next to him for a long chat? We've all seen and known folks like this and depending on your own background you have an opinion or idea on your head of what he is all about. This is your reality. The truth is that your reality is only a perception of what is truly there. Now, I don't mean to get all deep and spew a bunch of crap at you. I really don't take myself that seriously. What I'm trying to say is that every single one of us sees life and others through the eyes of our own experiences. Everything is colored by what we think we know. Often we think others see things the way we do. We know it isn't so but we tend to do it anyway.

This is something I always catch myself thinking about. How altered is my vision? How do others perceive me/my art and does that really matter? The glory of being an artist is that I get to spend my day creating visual representations of the world as I see it. The fly in the ointment is that when you view my art, you see what you want to see based on what is comfortable to you. At the end of the day, I must be satisfied with the process and that I captured my vision with drawing or painting because in the end you may not see what I intended. That's ok.

I guess I answered my own question.

Marking Time

I can’t believe that this time last year I already had a tumor growing inside my chest. It is now 8 months since I starting looking for an answer to why I felt like crap and just over 6 months since my official diagnosis of lymphoma. So much can happen in a year it is mind blowing. I cried when I thought about it. I’m not sad by any means but amazed at how much my life has changed, let alone my look. It is surreal still, almost shocking.

How can these photos possibly be me? I’m not certain I know the woman in those photos. Yet, there is no doubt that I know her all too well. I’m not in denial. I know all too well that I have cancer. Every time I take a deep breath I feel what is left of the tumor. Every time I look in the mirror I’m not yet comfortable with the woman looking back. Only when I look inward do I see the Lori that I know. She is very much there, showing her strength and learning so much. I am proud of her.

I used to mark my life by events like buying my house and starting my own business. To think I thought quitting my job was the scariest thing ever. That is now quite laughable. My new life markers will be things like the first time I will use a brush on my new hair and the first time the doctors will say the word “remission” with me in the room. Someday they may even officially say “NED” (No Evidence of Disease). However, don’t think for one minute I will remember my life through only cancer related events. No, that would not be like me at all.

Determination is my trademark and I am determined to turn this experience into something really positive. It already has been. I’ve made some great new friends and have learned how truly wonderful people can be. I’ve gained a new perspective on what is important and see even greater beauty in all things. Now, I am starting to be well enough to make plans. I can already see the paintings I will create and new directions for my business. Volunteer work and a master’s degree are also in my future. My personal life is looking up as well. I have enough energy now to feel excitement. These things will be the subjects of my future blog posts. I look forward to them.

If you have a moment please visit my friend Liz’s blog site. She finished radiation almost a week after I did. She rocks. (I’m two weeks out of treatment.) She is far more eloquent than yours truly. Also, if you did not get the opportunity to see the special on Living with Cancer, hosted by Ted Koppel, I recommend viewing it when it is shown again. If you are not familiar with Leroy Sievers take some time read about him as well. Even before you met me I’m sadly certain you were touched by cancer. If you get nothing else from all of us get this one thing. Make each day special because it is.

Ripening Fruits

"Ripening Fruits", 24"x30" oil on canvas, is finally done. This piece pays homage to all things new and sweet that are yet to see their finest hour. Canine Partners for Life will be holding their annual wine auction on December 1st and this painting will be featured as the main event. Signed prints will be available so please contact me if you are interested in either bidding on the original or purchasing a print.

I do not post much about my battle with lymphoma (lower case letters because it doesn't deserve more than that) because I'm always torn between posting business and personal information. However, as an artist it is hard to separate the two. Everything I paint, if it is to be successful, must come from the heart. Otherwise you could grab a camera and take your own pictures. There would be no need for me. Though I try very hard to continue on with my life in the most normal of fashions, cancer has colored everything. Some things like the smell of the rain coming down now are made more beautiful by this evil. Other things like planning my future are made far more difficult. Though I'm quite certain I have a beautiful life ahead of me I realize plans are only ideas that suck up precious time.

I am so thankful to all of you who continue to support me and hold my hand through this journey. I just learned that another week of radiation has been added to my treatment. I "planned" on radiation being quick, easy and painless. What a silly plan that was. However, no experience is ever all negative and I promise you I've had some good laughs even through this. Besides, why would I want to stop going to radiation when I can sit across from the man every day who's hospital gown reveals all his "stuff". Radiation...a few thousand dollars a treatment. Seeing an senior citizen's "package"...priceless.

Still Working on the CPL Wine Auction Painting

I have not fallen off the face of the earth. Nope. I've been very busy working on the painting for the Canine Partners for Life wine auction. I still have about a week's worth of work to do on it. The background is only in the beginning stages and the puppies still have rough edges. It is a large canvas and is 24"x30". Basically my life is about painting puppies and trying to rest. Spring is here so hopefully thing will get more interesting.

I would like to invite you to read an article I found the other day while searching for information on lymphoma. It is written by someone with TMJ but it is relevant to any battle against any disease. Many have asked where I have been and how I am feeling. On a clinical note I am about to start radiation and that will last for about 5 weeks. On a personal note, this article says it better than I could. Why reinvent the wheel?

Dog Portrait - Kujo

Kujo is in the house. This is a little portrait of my friend Susan's dog that she commissioned me to do for her sweetie. I think this pup is such a handsome guy. The sun is shining so brightly outside I couldn't photograph the drawing so I had to scan it. Unfortunately the scan doesn't do it justice. However, I'd pick a beautiful day over photographing art anytime. Hope the sun is shining where you live!

What the Hell Is This?

Don't you see a magnificent painting happening here? You think I'm nuts? That's beside the point. What you see here is the development stages of my painting for Canine Partners for Life's wine auction. I've decided to paint larger than usual and went for a 24x30 inch canvas. The image will be new born pups nestled in grape vines. I have the drawing of the 15 lab pups all sleeping together finished. I cut out one pup from my sketch to show you here. Then my dear friend Denise helped me create imaginary puppies out of socks and polar fleece and surrounded them with craft store foliage. (That was her brilliant idea. She's a witty one.) We only needed a few grapes and leaves and just moved them around the "pups" and photographed them so that I could paste it all together in Photoshop. Now I will take this picture, along with some photo reference of some juicy grapes and an old painting I did of grapes and leaves in college and create a beautiful stylized drawing around my finished drawing of the pups. When that is complete next week I will go for the canvas! I can't wait.

At the same time I am also working on a commission of a dog portrait. The dog's name is Kujo. I will share that as that gets closer to finish. Also on the easel is my second self portrait that is in the drawing stages. If you would like to see a photo of the first one finished, email me and I will be happy to share it with you.

Stay warm and dry on this rather nasty Valentine's Day. I'm just warming up after having lost power for a few hours. Poor Gracie was getting cold!