Little by little, I’m pulling this along. It does feel like that sometimes — like I’m dragging a weight behind me. And yet when I finally do sit down to paint, relief washes over me the moment I put the brush to canvas. I revised the homeless man on the bottom right, and finished a couple of the kitties in the cat pile.

It’s been so long since I posted. This time I have a good reason for the delay: for the last six weeks we’ve been fostering a litter of six (formerly feral) kittens for adoption. They’re being housed in my studio, where they’ve pulled down curtains, knocked books and papers off every surface, scattered brushes, and generally had a grand time demonstrating the amazing destructive power of kittens! I’ve only painted once because I don’t want to choke them out with the smell of mineral oil spirits. Plus I’m afraid they’ll get into the palette and track oil paint all over the floor (and each other). I love, love, love them. But I’m not putting six more cats into the painting!

(Here they are playing with some toys that my mother sent)

And this is what a neglected easel looks like! Yuk.

I hardly use markers anymore since Photoshop came along, so this was a rare opportunity to color something by hand.

If my art ever becomes famous, they’ll be able to date the work by the type of cat hair found in the paint layers!

I made some small progress over the holidays, not much. I worked on the self-portrait section, and the homeless man. I feel like it’s slowly creeping toward completion. This is often the phase where I slow down — the closer it gets to the end, the harder it is to keep going. It’s like those nightmares where you walk down a hallway but the end keeps stretching farther away. I hesitate more, lose myself in doubt. The painting is just so … specific. It’s no longer a sketch that’s filled with potential. It’s congealing into the final product that I’ll have to live with. Like a child growing up, I can’t make any more changes once it’s done; and I’m not sure I made all the right choices.

Well, there’s still a lot to be done. So I’ll keep on painting …

I was blessed with an active imagination as a child, and to me, the world was alive with spirits and creatures. The trees and rocks were conscious entities. The sky had thoughts and feelings. Even my blankets had personalities: I had to kiss each of them an equal number of times so none of them would be hurt.

So I never felt truly alone. And on one night in 1984, when I was close to death (or so I felt, although that’s another story), I wasn’t surprised to see a woman filled with light. She stood at the door, watching me. At first I thought she was a nurse. I was lying in a hospital bed, and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would be visiting me at that late hour. But she got brighter, and her features blurred, and then without talking, she communicated such warmth and love to me, I felt that everything was going to be okay. I suppose some might say it was an angel. I’ve sometimes wondered if it was me, traveling backwards in time, visiting my young self to let her know she had a great life ahead. Whatever the explanation, it was a powerful experience — one I’ve never forgotten.

And it informs my paintings to this day. It’s the main reason I paint mythical, archetypal beings. I’m searching for that connection. And I always find some version of it when I paint. A feeling comes through me with a dramatic whoosh, and I cry, then I spend the next few hours painting in a kind of trance. It’s the closest I come to believing in some divine force.

So now you know why there’s an angel in this painting. Next time I’ll explain why my angels are transgender. Now there’s another story!

One last note — here’s the reference I used for the color palette and title — and the general feeling of drama. It’s called “Apotheosis of the Slavs” by Alphonse Mucha. Happy Holidays everyone!

I’ve also started painting in names. If you look closely at the feathers, you might see letters carved into the paint. One of these days, I’m going to haul the canvas outside so I can take a better photograph.

When I’ve finally completed this, I’ll have to throw a party so everyone can see it in person and look for their names. And for the out-of-towners, I’ll just have to post better pictures!

I started painting names into the background, and it just didn’t look right. Then I remembered an image I saw in the American History Museum in Washington D.C. this summer, and suddenly I knew exactly how I want to incorporate the names. I want to paint them into shapes, kind of like this image by Armand Monjo (I can see them etched like calligraphy into the angel wings, or the cat tails, etc.):

This photograph is a little dark but it shows progress. I started to build up the paint layers around the bottom right and the area below the angel. When I paint, I let go and let my Muse direct the effort, so I don’t always know what will happen. In this case, I wasn’t quite happy with the little dark figure that appeared below the angel’s legs — but I know to sit with the discomfort and see if it tells me what to do next. I may end up toning down that little figure, but for now it’s just floating there, waiting to mean something.

And by the way, I painted the first names in — I carved it into the paint layer. You can’t see it yet because I still have to fill the grooves with color so the letters stand out. Next time.

(If you’d like to have your name painted into the image, click here.)

Oh, and I have a title: “Apotheosis 2009″. Do any of you art history buffs know what piece inspired the title and the color palette?

If you want to join the other sponsors of this piece and have your name painted in to the background, click here.