When I was in art school I felt like a less than capable writer.  I determined that I needed to gain more mastery over my writing skills and I enrolled in a creative writing class for extra credit.

But I struggled. Most of that struggle was rooted by my British mother’s constant insistence that Americans cannot speak or write correctly. She overlooked that she was actually speaking to an American.

My state of mind was further hampered when I confessed my struggle to my writing professor.  Her stinging response, “Ann, you are so smart.  I just don’t understand why you can’t write.”  I thought. “What? Why do you think I’m enrolled in your damn class? Help me woman.  Maybe you can’t teach!”  But I respectfully took the blow and said nothing.

Two months ago I sat with a fellow passenger on the plane returning from a press event for the new Montage Residences in Manhattan.  We passed the time by making small talk and thumbing through my first bound edition of an Artist’s Diary of Deer Valley, Utah.

Later a woman from across the aisle asked if she could see my book.  Of course I offered it to her and she returned it about an hour later with her business card.  She was the Chair of the American Literature department at Claremont Graduate University.

She asked if she could interview me for a journal that she has been editing for the past 20 years that profiles individuals’ creative processes.  Her response, “I have never met a visual artist so capable of articulating their creative process. And your work is stunning.”

Suddenly my injured confidence was fully healed. I had not realized that this inner struggle had not yet completely been resolved. How many years had I let other’s remarks choke my confidence?

I’ll let people tell me I can but I’ll never let them tell me I can’t.

• I can continue to grow my artistic enterprise and meet my goals.
• I can balance my solitary enterprise of painting with social and emotional connection to others.
• I can create an Experience of Art for my patrons in Marin, CA will be better than the last one.

I can and I will.

The common romantic perception of my life as an artist is that I must spend about:

• 80% of my time painting leisurely in a lovely landscape, breathing in the fresh air, sunning myself with a glass of wine in one hand and paint brush in the other hand
• Then I spend 15% of my time going to parties and receptions where my work is applauded and admired and sold, every time
• and then I spend the remaining 5% of my time involved in naughty exploits that us artists are oh so famous for

Well… maybe I shouldn’t kill the myth.  It’s so sexy and intriguing. The fact is that I too often experience the push and pull of my creative muse, an internal battle with my own motivation and inspiration.

It’s not uncommon for artists to struggle with their own desire to create.  There are so many distractions and higher concerns that tug at one’s attention.  Bills must be paid, leads followed up on for future business, previous projects completed.  Painting can get pushed aside.  Yet it’s at the core of everything I’m about.

The buzz killing reality is that I spend about 10% maybe 12% of my time actually painting. The rest of my time and energy is devoted to running a challenging business and devising ways to grow this unusual enterprise.

Even though I haven’t performed the bean counting exercise of logging my actual creative time, my sense is that creative time is increasing. That’s the good news; my muse will continue to have more physical and psychic space to do her thing and to complete the series that I’m creating just over the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin.

San Francisco based Artist & CEO

The problem with being a painter, for me anyway, is that like a writer, it’s too often a solitary existence.

And I am a social being. I actually like to be around people.  Well, some people. I don’t fit the stereotype of the sulking or reclusive creative. God help me I never want to.

Thankfully my creative process only requires two to three hours in front of an easel during a single stint.  After that.  I’m done and I need to move on.  So I paint quickly and deliberately in a focused effort that can keep pace with my attention span.

My experience of isolation hit home recently when a women at a holiday party remarked about the feelings she sensed in my paintings when she was reading through my new book, An Artist’s Diary of Deer Valley, Utah.

She remarked that there was a sense of inner peace but also a feeling of isolation.  Talk about someone reading you like a book!  Ugh!  It’s true.

Most of the time I really enjoy my solitary creative focus, but too much time alone is not just not good.

And I now fully realize that after five years I’ve just had way too much time alone.  Like any mammal we humans need contact with other humans.  We all long for, I long for, and need connection.

So I’ve resolved to create more social contact in 2012.

And one thing that I’ll also be doing is more deliberately marketing my Art & Wine Pairings concept.  This is an intimate social and educational gathering of high net worth folks to learn about, and to experience, art and wine.  And its a fresh excuse to gather people around.

This marketing strategy doesn’t just exist to reach my company’s revenue objectives, it exists because I need to get out and about and connect with people in a real and intimate way.

And is it really art if it isn’t shared?

The number of varying and inspiring landscapes in Northern California was one of the big draws that brought me here over two decades ago from Ohio.

This Marin, California landscape series of oil paintings is the beginning of an Experience of Art that Kelly Neil commissioned for his wife Shirlee as her seventh year anniversary gift.

Kelly and Shirlee live in a beautiful home that Kelly built atop the rolling hills of Marin with stunning distant views of San Francisco bay.

Kelly is an engineer by training and a successful investor. Like me, he’s a transplant, as he grew up in the Midwest.

Kelly married in his late forties.  He said that when he met Shirlee he just knew that “it was right.”  His story gives me hope and it makes me mindful of the celebratory meaning behind this gift.

Right now I’m sketching a number of different perspectives that surround the Neil’s home.

Kelly was anxious to give me information and maps that define his property.  Although I do appreciate his desire to help, art is not born of the facts.

I have to feel into each series of paintings.  Just like the words of a song might refer to some of the facts involved in a relationship, that’s not where the music comes from.  The music is born of the musician’s heart felt perspective.

This Experience of Art will also be born of my heart-felt perspective, my creative exploration.  I never know what the final large-scale painting will look like.

It is this artistic journey that is part of the joy and the inevitable frustration of the creative process.

At this point I’m photographing and sketching to start to get a sense of how this place, and how the Neil’s story, make me feel, this feeling will influence the series.  I’ve just completed the eleventh sketch for the oil painting studies.

From left to right, notable Interior Designer Philip Gorrivan, Ann Rea, Susan Feldman Co-Founder of One Kings Lane, and Alan Fuerstman CEO and Founder of Montage, posing for the press last month where “Dreamy Aspens” was unveiled at the Montage Beverly Hills.

When Philip Gorrivan introduced me he noted that “Dreamy Aspens” has been making the rounds from the mountains to coast to coast.

“Dreamy Aspens” was painted at my Pacific Beach studio in San Francisco, then it was photographed, framed and crated and shipped to its new home at the Montage Deer Valley, then in October it was shipped to Manhattan where I unveiled it to the East Coast press, then unveiled to the West Coast press in Beverly Hills last month.

Phillip quipped, “Next is going to my place in New York City.”

I was so relieved that Phillip loved it.  Because “Dreamy Aspens” is the focal point of the beautiful model Montage Deer Valley residence that he designed. It was the Montage that chose the study used as the basis for “Dreamy Aspens”. 

Phillip had no input or preview of what it would look like. Thankfully it all worked out and his design and color palette work hand in hand.

This project itself has been dreamy.  It’s a convergence of the best of design, architecture, luxury real estate development, and marketing.

Susan Feldmen co-founded One King’s Lane with Alison Pincus. One King’s Lane will be featuring a “Get the Look Sale” in January where you can get the furniture and accessories that are part of Phillip Gorravin’s design.

And you can collect the reproductions of three pieces from my Deer Valley series:

“Aspens Parting”
“Descending Snow”
and of course “Dreamy Aspens”

The entire series is featured in my book, An Artist’s Diary of Deer Valley, Utah.

A few weeks back, while editing the storybook of my To Kalon Vineyard painting series, I received an email from my patron Cheryl Compham.

She was sweet enough to send me a photo of “Tearing Vines.”  It was resting in its place on her and Dave’s yacht, aptly named “To Kalon.”  I was thankful to see it well-lit in a beautiful spot in the wine alcove.

Beside “Tearing Vines” I could see the back of their other framed oil painting study “Alluvial Essence” and the note cards that I gave to each guest who attended the 2011 To Kalon Gala, sitting on the table.

The To Kalon Gala presented a very special evening.  Along with the other black tie guests, Robert Mondavi’s staff made me feel a very welcome guest.

So much work and planning goes into these lavish and lovely affairs yet you would never even know it.

Behind the scenes there are countless meetings, emails, and spreadsheets tracking each timed move, every step, and each resource.  It works well. Everything goes off without a hitch.

Robert Mondavi provided each To Kalon Gala guest with an Exclusive Edition print of his or her choice from my To Kalon vineyard painting series.

As we prepared these gifts at my Pacific Beach studio I thought of Robert Mondavi’s staff and I wondered how much they are thanked and how I could thank them.

So I asked each of Robert Mondavi’s host staff to select their favorite piece from my To Kalon Vineyard painting series and I sent them each an Exclusive Edition print as a token of my appreciation.

We can’t be thankful enough for our health, our relationships, or the privilege to celebrate in such lovely and grand fashion as we did the evening of the 2011 To Kalon Gala.

“Mood of Dusk” Ann Rea ©, oil on canvas, 16"x20", private collection of David and Maryann Johndrow

This morning Ashley arrived at my new Pacific Beach studio all a glow at seven months very pregnant.

Ashley is the Vice President of Ohano Real Estate Investors, who owns the Montage Deer Valley Residences.

Ohana commissioned an Experience of Art as a gift for their clients Maryann and David Johndrow.

Ashley was here to meet the Johdrows and me for the unveiling of the painting.

Maryann and David arrived with their cute Parti Yorkies in tow, a fitting name and breed for this fun couple.

The Jondrows’ are vintners who own Johndrow Vineyards on Howell Mountain.

I just love their tag line.  It reflects their personalities and it a great direct edict, “Find your happy place.”

While Maryann and David were vacationing in Tahiti, I presented them with nine studies painted in oil at Johndrow Vineyards via annrea.com.

They got to choose one study to serve as the basis for a larger scale reinterpretation on a canvas measuring 36”x48″.

I always offer my recommendations because most collectors get overwhelmed by the choices and obviously I have the best sense of what images will work best as a larger scale interpretation.

Maryann and David chose “Above the Fog.”

Their new 36”x48″ canvas was too wet to veil under black velvet, as I usually do, so I revealed the painting this morning by simply opening my studio door.

Maryann and David first words:  “Wow, it is beautiful!” Then they smiled and each gave me a warm hug.

It was the best! This is one of the many reasons I am in love with what I do.  I love that something that I have created can evoke such a positive heartfelt response.

Maryann and David didn’t leave without selecting another study for their second home, “Mood of Dusk.”

Although “Mood of Dusk” is very painterly and loose, Maryann and David knew exactly where it was painted and they could walk right to that spot and show you where their grapes are grown.

This is the connection, a sense of place, that I’m seeking for my collectors.

The next step is to have the Jondrows’ painting photographed, framed, and crated for shipment.

And then the photograph of their large-scale painting will be featured on the cover of their hardbound storybook, “An Artist’s Diary of Johndrow Vineyards.”

"Tearing Vines" Unveiling at the To Kalon Gala

Three weeks ago I was in Manhattan for the unveiling of my painting “Dreamy Aspens” at a press event sponsored for the Montage Deer Valley Residences. The day before, I was in sunny NYC traipsing around with my friend Meg who insisted that we go to her favorite boutique.

I had already decided that I wasn’t going to buy anything. I didn’t have any more room in my suitcase. But then I spotted a very dark hand beaded grey silk gown in the very corner of the room.  Okay.  What the heck?  Maybe?

It fit like a dream. I was sure the weight of the beads on this gown would put my luggage over the weight limit.  But my friend Meg insisted that I get it.  “Every woman needs some sparkle!”  Of course, she’s right.

The following week I worked in jeans and a tee-shirt as one of the lovely ladies at Robert Mondavi Winery helped me hang twelve original oil painting studies in the Vineyard Room in preparation for the To Kalon Gala where we planned the unveiling of “Tearing Vines”, an Experience of Art for Cheryl and Dave Copham.

After the To Kalon vineyard painting studies where hung, and the large custom painting was draped in black velvet, I poured myself into my new sparkling silk gown and sauntered down to the barrel room to join the arriving guests.

The lovely lady who was helping me earlier passed me a glass of  sparkling wine.  I thanked her for helping hang my paintings but she didn’t even recognize me. I laughed.  It was either the change of dress or change of context.

Carl Jaeger, the MC for the evening was planning to introduce me, and the To Kalon vineyard painting series, so he needed to interview me before all of the guests arrived.  He asked about my first visit to Robert Mondavi Winery.

I shared a very clear recollection.  I was visiting Robert Mondavi Winery with my family shortly after graduating from art school.  I remember vividly standing in the parking lot and placing my foot on the curb.  At that moment I experienced a sensation from the future sparkling within.  The thought struck me that I would return to this place in a memorable way.

I shared this thought with my family and they tilted their heads sideways and dismissed me.  I knew that it didn’t “make sense” but neither does wanting to live in San Francisco and paint for a living nor does buying a long silk hand beaded dress when there’s no room in your suitcase.

If I have learned one thing it is that making sense is overrated.

Sparkling silk, sparkling wine, sparkles in our cement sidewalks, the sparkle in your eyes.  These are the moments that we live for.

There is something about the view of my wet paintings laying sideways as they dry on the racks in my San Francisco beach studio that just fascinates me.

This oil painting of the Johndrow Vineyards on Howell Mountain, commissioned by the Montage Deer Valley Residences, looks quite abstract from this angle.

And this view provides a point of entry, an understanding, of the relationship between representational and abstract art.

The reality is, all art is an abstraction. Representational paintings are simply an illusion created by abstractions. They are not real but people relate to them like they are,  just like a movie can transport your reality. Paintings are just different shapes of colored paint stuck on canvas.

As a painter, I find the non-representational aspects of visual representation equally compelling and lush as the representational aspect of painting.

I love the mood and the qualities conveyed by simple shapes and forms.  They convey feeling although we don’t know what they are supposed to “be.”

Now left brain folks have a harder time getting their heads wrapped around this concept.  Why?  Because they experience the world in terms of symbols.

Symbols represent ideas and thoughts, not feelings.  If they understand the idea, then they can connect with the art on that level.

But if the idea isn’t spelled out and it is more of a feeling, logical folks get lost.

I’m guessing that Spock from Star Trek would never become a collector.  And it’s no surprise that precious few of my collectors are engineers and or accountants.

I just returned from traveling for a press event at Scarpetta’s in New York City to promote the new Montage Deer Valley Residences.

Before this event met up with my friend Jonathan Fields for lunch at Soho House, a hip kind of country club for creatives.

Jonathan has just authored his second insightful book “Uncertainty, Turning Fear and Doubt into Fuel for Brilliance.”

If you are involved in any type of entrepreneurial endeavor or if you are a creative who makes their living by way of your creative output. Get the book!

Jonathan has outlined clear and useful insights that should be part of every MFA and MBA program.

I met Jonathan a few years back when he was writing “Career Renegade, How to Make a Great Living Doing What you Love.”

I’ll admit it.  I am biased because my company was profiled in Career Renegade, but I can tell you that each story was inspiring, as was my discussion with Jonathan last week.

As we talked about our creative process as it relates to our uncertainties and fears we also explored the antidote, which seems to be both acceptance and ritual.

My ritual takes this form.

• Before I start a painting I put my studio in order. It has to be clean and free of distractions.
• Then I will light one stick of sandalwood incense.
• I’ll meditate in silence for about 15 minutes.
• I pause in gratitude for the privilege and opportunity to make my living painting.
• Then I set my intention to do my best work that will inspire and move others.
• Before I pick up the paintbrush I’ll put on some soulful music that might include Amy Winehouse.

This creative ritual drops me down into a familiar mode.  I know, and I accept, that sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.  I remain loosely attached to the outcome.

I do know that each time I preform this ritual and I get into a familiar headspace, I’m increasing my chances of creative satisfaction.