the loveART blog

try a little tenderness

There Is Still Time (copyright 2007 Diana Rico)

This gentle sign sat at the entrance to the adobe casita I lived and wrote in at the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation last year. The Wurlitzer is a magical place, a colony where fortunate artists are gifted with the time and space to work–or not–in whatever way they deem best. There is no pressure to do anything at all, just a nurturing environment of total support and acceptance. 

We all need that, don’t we? And what’s important to know is that we can give it to ourselves

Last week the wordARTist taught a workshop called “Delving into My Artist’s Statement” to a group of painters, printmakers and photographers at the Taos Artists Organization. I know, from talking with many artist friends, that the task of writing the artist’s statement often raises fear, anger, resentment, confusion and just plain blockage in people who are accustomed to working in the purely visual realm. And so we took a few deep breaths together, and then we dove in.

First, I had them write a list: “10 Reasons Why I Don’t Have to Write an Artist’s Statement.” I think it’s very important to give yourself permission not to do something that is torturing you. The critical voices inside our heads can be cruel, especially the voices saying “SHOULD” and “MUST” and “YOU’RE BAD IF YOU DON’T.” Let’s introduce some tenderness, shall we?  Tenderness leads to self-love, and self-love is a key to unlocking the creative spirit.

We read the lists out loud, and of course common themes emerged: “I shouldn’t have to explain my art,” “I don’t know what to say,” “I don’t want to tell people how to look at my art,” “I hate to write.” The room was filled with tension as the artists spewed their negative feelings onto the page and into the room. Good. The wordARTist believes in getting all that internal poison OUT, so that it stops killing you at the root.

Then I talked to them about how an artist’s statement helps me, as a viewer, understand what I am looking at and deepens my experience of an artist’s work. A well-crafted artist’s statement opens a doorway, leads an audience into a unique world. In writing their artists’ statements from a place of loving kindness, they would be holding out a helping hand to all who might potentially benefit from seeing their work.

Next I asked them to write another list: “10 Reasons Why I It Would Be an Act of Self-Love to Write My Artist’s Statement.”  

Shoulders that had been scrunched up visibly relaxed. Arms that had been clutched in front of chests unfolded and opened. The air became warm. Gentleness settled in. As they shared their second lists, their voices rang out strong: “I need an artist’s statement to approach galleries with.” “It feels good to tell people what I’m trying to accomplish with my art.” “I feel empowered taking charge of my career.”  

They spent the next two hours excitedly writing out answers to questions I posed about their work, brainstorming the raw materials that would become their artists’ statements. The floodgates were open; it was hard to get them to stop. And amazing, moving, to see the joy that had replaced the tension in their faces. 

That sign in front of my Wurlitzer casita had a similar effect on me; it never failed to reassure me. Sometimes these days, when I’m hearing the cruel, judgmental voices in my own head, I remind myself of those heartening words. And recently I got to meet the woman who had put it up, a writer named Susan Varon. Susan is an ordained interfaith minister; she marries people. She bills herself as an “Officiant of Love.” She talks about a wedding as “a divine collaboration” with “the power of Love in the universe.”  

Isn’t that what artmaking is? The next time you’re blocked or scared or just struck dumb, pose yourself these questions: What can I do to be an Officiant of Love to myself? How can I bring a little tenderness to bear, in this situation, right now?

(Photo: There Is Still Time to Do Good Things, copyright 2008 Diana Rico.)


here’s mudpie in your eye

"Maiden Rainbow," etched zinc plate by Karin (copyright Karin about 8 years ago)

This just in: an etched zinc plate by an artist named Karin, who made reference to her art and MUDPIES in her comment to my Post #1 below.

The poem she used on the print is William Blake’s “Song First by a Shepherd”:

Welcome, stranger, to this place,

Where Joy doth sit on every bough;

Paleness flies from every face;

We reap not what we do not sow.

Innocence doth like a rose

Bloom on every maiden’s cheek;

Honour twines around her brows

The jewel Health adorns her neck.

Karin’s not alone in quoting from Blake in her art. A Belgian composer named Lucien Posman has written a whole load of music set to Blake’s works. And here you can listen to a beautiful, haunting rendition of “Song First by a Shepherd” by The Wraiths, a duo based in Bristol, UK. I’ve taken a liking to this Wraiths version. I have a feeling Blake would have appreciated it.

Welcome, stranger, to this place. Enjoy.

“journaling” is not a verb form…yet

cover by Cody Hudson (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy)

The wordARTist was excited to learn about 1000 Journals, the brainchild of a San Francisco-based graphic designer who modestly calls himself Someguy. Dude leaves blank 220-page journals with stamped instructions inside (draw, paste, cut, rip, fold, burn, write, sew on its pages) in a variety of locations. People who find them follow said instructions and come up with fantastically creative visuals and word-musings, then pass them on by hand or mail or whatever to the next potential artist.

spread from 1000 Journals (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy)   spread from 1000 Journals (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy)

Journals have been hidden in a cave, left in a lost and found, abandoned in an airport, and become part of a treasure hunt. They’ve traveled by air, sea and land through 50 states and 40 countries. Sort of like the gnome in the film Le Fabuleaux destin d’Amélie Poulain (come to think of it, another great example of the wordARTist’s Theory of the Power of loveART).

spread from 1000 Journals (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy) spread from 1000 Journals (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy)

If you happen to be in San Francisco between now and April 5, 2009, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art has an exhibit of the 1000 Journals. But don’t be sad if you can’t get there; Chronicle Books has also published a book condensing some of the most groovy of the journal entries.

spread from 1000 Journals (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy) spread from 1000 Journals (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy)

I love these covers by (left to right) Craig Frazier, Gary TaxaliMichael Mabry and  Simone Legno  (they have fabulous websites, too):

cover by Craig Frazier (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy) cover by Gary Taxali (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy) cover by Michael Mabry (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy) cover by Simone Legno (copyright 1000 Journals; courtesy Someguy) 

The wordARTist proposes that we follow the lead of Someguy and keep the spirit of 1000 Journals going. Quick, tell us right now: What would YOU do if you found a blank journal at a gas station or in the frozen foods aisle or in your favorite café, with instructions inside to make it into an objet d’art? Heck, if you feel so moved, go ahead and make something and send the wordARTist .jpgs. I’ll post the best ideas and images. Let’s spread the loveART!

(All images copyright 1000 Journals/courtesy of Someguy. 1000 thanks.)

jane fonda is blogging

acting, art, creativity, theater,writing

Jane Fonda is blogging. At the age of 71. In New York. While she prepares to go on stage in her first Broadway play in 45 years, 33 Variations, by the Venezuelan director-playwright Moisés Kaufman.

This may or may not mean anything to you. It fascinates me because I am in the peculiar position of being one of her biographers. In 2000 I produced, directed and wrote the two-hour E! True Hollywood Story: Jane Fonda. As a biographer, one gets to know people in a weirdly intimate way; it’s a relationship like no other. You’re not friends with the person (though you might become one), but you develop a wider and deeper overview of their lives than probably any of their friends or family members do. (An awful lot of what you discover ends up on the cutting room floor, but it also stays in your brain and your heart, and forever informs your understanding of their character.) And if you have some kind of intellectual or emotional connection with the person’s story, it can be an expansive experience of the most profound sort. This is, after all, why we read and watch biographies, and why some of us write them.

Anyway, I bring up Jane’s blog for several reasons. First of all, as an artist she’s not scared to say she’s scared. She is acutely vulnerable, sometimes unsure of herself, sometimes triumphant as she goes through the difficult, fascinating creative process of embodying her character and helping the play on the page come to life. This is what she has to say about her character, Dr. Katherine Brandt:

I play a musicologist of today who is obsessed with figuring out why Beethoven, at the height of his powers, spent 3 years writing 33 variations on a mediocre waltz written by a music publisher in 1819. My character is passionate in her quest for understanding and it’s a race against time for her to get a paper written on the topic and delivered to a conference because she is sick. Beethoven (who is also a character in the play) is also obsessed with finishing the variations because he is becoming deaf. Obsession, passion…these are things I love in life– the fact that people can grow old and become sick and yet their passions remain undimmed.

And think what you will about Jane Fonda (I’m not going to get into politics here–though she does, on her blog), she is someone who is always testing new frontiers. I personally am glad she’s on the planet, as a role model for women and girls and as an example of how to live one’s “third act” (to use her words) in a vital, engaged way. 

I recommend checking out her blog if you’re at all interested in the subtleties that go on in an artist’s brain and soul during the creative process. She tracks this daily, with her customary considerable frankness. 

Applause, applause.

(Photo of Jane Fonda from

welcome to the loveART blog

Creativity is ecstasy. Participate.

heartchalk (copyright 2008 Diana Rico)

The loveART blog is the brainbaby of Diana Rico, a.k.a. the wordARTist. (If you want to know bio-type stuff, here’s a whole splendid website, and another, and yet more.)  But enough about me. What I’m really interested in is building a space for musings (mine and yours) about the nature, the purpose, even—dare I say it—the holiness of our creative impulses as human beings. 

I think the best way to launch this blog is to let the words of the Beat bard Allen Ginsberg ring out loud and true. This is from a 1968 interview (remember, it was the eve of Nixon’s election and the depths of the Vietnam War):

Life should be ecstasy. We need lifestyles of ecstasy and social forms appropriate to whatever ecstasy is available for whoever wants it…. We need a million children saints adept at high unhexings, technological vaudeville, rhythmic behaviors, hypnotic acrobatics, street trapeze artists, naked circus vibrations—magic politics to exorcise the police state.

These pictures are of a comparsa I got to participate in while living in Guatemala a couple of years ago. An arts collective called Caja Ludica had spent a week working with children who had been displaced by Hurricane Stan, making masks and costumes, creating dances, learning songs, and planning their parade route through the streets of Panajachel. This was the joyous result. (You can click on the images to make them bigger.)

Please, do share with us: What kind of high unhexings, technological vaudeville, and/or naked circus vibrations are you engaging in in your life these days? Or would like to be?

(All photos copyright 2006-2008 Diana Rico.)