denyse dar

The Art of a Creator

2014-03-16T12:21:00.000-04:00

If you look at everything known to exist and you remove what man has made so you are only left with what has existed before or without man, you will see that not one single thing is wasted. There literally is no junk. Every single thing you see or know about (because you can't see an atom or gravity) has a function and purpose that it not only performs but performs perfectly. Further more, each thing leads to another thing that it must "work with" to make up a larger unit. For example - all our cells must work harmoniously in tandem with other cells to make up the body we have. The earth must work in tandem with other planets and the sun to form our solar system and provide a home for all creatures. In short, EVERY living and non-living thing that was created not by man - instinctively and naturally forms a community. Each thing must do a job and do it well in order for it to continue to thrive and exist both on its own and with others (the collective) community.

What we openly acknowledge -because we speak about it all the time without really finishing the sentence - is that the planet, our bodies and our culture are NOT in harmony. We speak of cancer, diseases, sickness, ADHD, Autism, etc when we describe the human body now. We speak of global warming, depletion of resources, increased natural disasters and a planet on the brink of ruin when we speak of our home. We speak of crime, terrorism, hatred, pain, suffering and discrimination when we describe our cultures and society. Everything related to mankind is in ruins. Why? Because... we have only focused on man and what we think is his greatness. We only give credence to what man has made and we ignore everything else. Religion has made it so bad for so many folks that as a species, we are literally repulsed by the thought of a God. It's a horrible lie because when you look at the community of all that is NOT man made - all those planets circling in a beautiful symphony, all creatures forming a delicately balanced food chain, all our cells working as a complex orchestration in every second of cell regeneration and even the great power contained in a single atom - you don't see the God of religion! You don't see judgment. You don't see retribution. You see a designer, a creator - an ARTIST - who has literally crafted a breathtaking symphony of abundance purely for your enjoyment! All things spinning in a delicate yet powerful ballet creating sound (most of which we don't even hear!) as it dances to provide both infinite expression and experience. It is in short the greatest masterpiece that instigates a state of perpetual awe for the observer. Sadly, you can not feel that awe - you can't be taken to great heights - if you refuse to acknowledge and observe.

I have people tell me all the time that they wish they could live in one of my paintings or that they wish they could see through my eyes. There's nothing special about my eyes. You have the exact same eyes with the exact same abilities. The only difference between us is choice. I choose to see the bigger picture and not focus on just what is man made. I choose to see what is really there and not close my eyes for fear of what I might see. And each time I look, the picture gets bigger and more awesome. And with that comes a responsibility. And even the possibility of being ridiculed. But I am ethically bound to say out loud that your current view is just a sliver of what is real. And so I put down on paper in both picture and now word - the world you actually live in. If you will only stop squeezing your eyes shut and stop being repulsed by the possibility of a God/Creator - your view will change into something you only dreamed it could be. So shut your TV off, given up mans mental diet of negativity and denial. Come see and be the harmonious part of this masterpiece that you were created to be. It's imperative because if more people see the big picture, will see the real Creator and understand their job within the cosmos - these sick bodies and sick planet will heal.

The Art of Bananas (or being bananas?)

2014-02-02T13:10:00.003-05:00

My name is Denyse and I have ADHD. Which is probably pretty evident if you’ve even met me for 30 seconds. If not, just read any post and you’ll get it in under 3 sentences. ;) And yes. I’m weird. I talk weird. I act weird. I look weird. I believe weird things. AND I do reaaaaallly weird things. Sometimes inappropriate and sometimes, “what the..??’ I know. I’ve been told it all and for a long time I believed that was a bad thing to be. That’s what I was being told anyway. But here’s the thing; as it turns out weird is a really spectacular thing to be. It’s joyful and funny and dynamic.

Yeah, I walk into rooms about every 30 minutes forgetting why I’m there. Then I have to walk back into the last room to reconstruct what I was originally thinking that GOT me in that room. It happens so much that sometimes I want to stick myself in the eye with a fork. The other day, I kept losing pairs of glasses I was using. I couldn’t figure out where I was forgetting them! Until I touched my head and found three pairs up there. I had that, “ugh” moment and then just laughed my ass off. That’s the part where funny comes in. Because really you could just stay frustrated n miserable or you could laugh at yourself because it’s utterly ludicrious. I like laughing way more.

And yes, some of the things I do are very strange. In my house, bananas are phones. Unfortunately because my DNA is at play in my children, you will likely have to answer a banana just about anywhere. Last year, it was in the car. We were driving a friend home from school. My eldest had a banana and said it was for me and then stuck it in my ear because it’ll illegal to talk on the phone and drive at the same time. *sigh* I can’t let stuff like that go by. That’s a smackdown. I'm a single Mom. If they win on even ONE smackdown…you are screwed! So I took the glob of banana out of my ear and mashed it all over her head and chest. :D To my chagrin, I’d given everyone bananas for snack (there were a total of 7 weapons!) and thus the Great Banana War broke out inside the car. We arrived at the friends house covered in mashed banana. Our friend just stood there with wide eyes of disbelief and confusion. So yeah, ok, a good word here might be “unorthodox.” But you know what? I can see the joy on my kids’ faces when they retell the story. There are SOOO many stories that are off the charts that they belly laugh when they remember. I don’t see a downside to that.

So ok, my brain wasn’t designed to do the simple, basic things other brains accomplish without so much as a thought. No. My brain was designed uniquely by ADHD to serve a purpose. And here is where the joyful part comes in; I wouldn’t be able to paint if I didn’t have ADHD. I can’t focus a damn on inconsequential details but I can hyper focus over a piece of paper and get so lost that I forget to eat. My brain is lacking an emotional filter too. Sounds like a bad thing but actually, it allows me to love other people all the way to my toes just like a little kid. Because I act on a lot of my emotional impulses, the people I care about know without a doubt that they are truly loved.

And if you look at any painting you will see the world through the lens of ADHD. That really IS the world through my eyes. I’ve seen your world on TV. It’s way different from mine. Things are bright and busy, detailed yet disgustingly simple. Shapes are organic because life is constantly moving with a rhythm. But the important part is what you see in total; happy. It’s a lovely place to be. It’s gratifying when you’ve spent your life on a pilgrimage to anywhere "better" and wind up at HAPPY. It's like climbing Mount Everest or running the Boston Marathon.

The funny part about happy is that when you get there, you look around to find out if others made it with you and who they are. What’s sad is that there aren’t as many as you’d hoped. And it’s a tough thing to see that because if you’ve EVER been unhappy or in horrible pain – you never want anyone else to feel that. Ever. And yet you know there isn’t anything you can do because no one gets you there but you. So you stand there to cheer the others on toward the finish line loudly. And hope they won’t give up. Yeah..being weird is a good thing. Now I think I’ll go see if I can find a banana. I have a teenager to mess with :D

The Art of Flying

2013-12-10T14:08:00.001-05:00

I’m going to be speaking to a Girl Scout troop soon. I always say yes when the Girl Scouts ask me to speak or do an activity. I was a Girl Scout for a time and I truly believe in the spirit of the girl scouts; to prepare girls to become empowered women. I’ve realized recently that as I grow as a woman myself and FINALLY come into my own, I bear a certain obligation. In thinking about what to do or say with the girls, I had some thinking to do. If I were a little girl again sitting in that troop, what would be the best possible thing I could walk away with when the activity ended? And so I started to think back about where my head was at that age.

I grew up with parents who were inherently fearful. Both my parents were inner city kids. They’d seen and experienced an awful lot and I mean “an awful lot” in a literal sense; abuse, molestations, poverty, crime, natural disasters – you name it. I can’t pretend I understand what that’s like. I don’t. And I know that many of the things they did in their child rearing back then were done because they loved me. But there’s no mistaking that their beliefs came from a place of real fear based on their experiences. They hovered over every aspect of my life. They held their breath each time I stepped out into the world. There were endless conversations about the bad things that could happen. Other talks about how bad people were to the point that you couldn’t trust them - ever. The world was a bad place and they tried their best to teach me how to watch my back, be mistrusting, keep my smarts about me at all times and how to come out swinging. It’s an understatement to say I was an abysmal failure. For whatever reason, I was hard wired as sensitive. I just didn’t have it in me. So you can imagine how confused I was given my personality versus theirs. In my parent’s eyes, I had/always have my “head up my ass.” In my eyes, they were difficult, jaded and hard. What confused me more was when I stepped out the door, I didn’t generally experience what they said was out there. Yes there were jerks but statistically speaking they were a mere decimal point when compared to all the people who were kind, loving and good. These people on the outside of my family were the ones who sustained me emotionally. They encouraged me. And if it weren’t for them, I probably wouldn’t have taken even 2 steps outside the door of my home.

The way I escaped from it all was through art. As a little girl, I’d color for hours. In high school, art class was where I felt excited and at ease. I wanted to pursue art but my parents dissuaded me back then because “artists don’t make any money.” That’s rather dashing when art is the thing you love so much that you get lost in it. Then in college in Florida, I took a drawing class. As a human being, I was adrift. Florida isn’t exactly the epicenter of hope or possibilities. So when I signed up for my college art class, it was with the intention of an elective that would keep my GPA up. Things took a bit of an unusual turn though. My professor had studied at the Sorbonne in Paris and in my eyes she was secretly a rock star. I remember feeling very wistful about what her life must have been like. About half-way through the semester though, she took me aside. “Denyse, you are literally wasted here. You have so much talent. You belong at Parson’s in New York. I can help you put together a portfolio and help you apply. You have to get out of here. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about and I wouldn’t say this to you if I weren’t 100% sure you could make it.” You could have blown me over with a feather. And for a moment – my heart was sooooo hopeful. The thoughts in my head about my life were for once about possibilities. I was so excited that I went to my parent’s house and told them. And my father shot me straight through the heart. “You can’t go to New York. You’ll be dead or raped within a week, Denyse and crawling back home. You’re just too naive to survive in a place like that and besides, artists don’t make any money.” And here’s where I went horribly, horribly wrong; I listened to his fear and owned it too. I told my professor “no.”

A colorful but flightless bird.....

I look back and literally sob at my own weakness. It’s natural for parents to be fearful when their baby bird flies from the nest. Especially my parents. But it’s on my own head that I didn’t soar anyway. I lived my whole life sitting in my parent’s nest, heart broken to not fly. I try very hard as a parent to ensure I don’t pass on my family legacy of fear. I don’t always succeed but I TRY. If you are a parent, I hope you’ll think about the things you are saying to your children both in word and deed because you are literally setting the flight pattern for your baby.

I think back to all the things my life could have been, what I surely missed; not just in circumstance but in how I could have felt about myself. I’m grateful for one thing though. Life offered me a second chance at 43 to be an artist. And for the first time in my life, I am at ease in my own skin. It is the thing I was born to do – the thing that I do well and love doing. What a gift even if it is late. I can’t help but wonder though, how many people get second chances? These little Girl Scouts are going to be sitting there looking to me to impart something to them. I desperately want for them what I didn’t have for myself. So I’ve decided that somehow, I’m going to try to give them the gift of not needing a second chance. I’m going to encourage them and get them so excited to soar the skies that nothing anyone says will stop them. Fly little birds – be free.

The Art of Latkes....

2013-11-27T11:27:00.003-05:00

For two weeks, I have been racking my brain what to get Tom and Reva for a Chanukah gift. With every store that I hit, I just couldn’t find anything that seemed appropriate. Tom and Reva are rare people so you can’t just buy them a Snuggie and expect that it would do the relationship justice. These are the kind of people who deserve nothing but the most astounding of gifts. And for good reason.

Two years ago, I fled my home as a result of a domestic violence incident in the midst of what has been a horrific divorce. Tom and Reva took me AND my three children into their fold. Not only did we live with them for almost an entire year, but they immediately (and instinctively) took on the role of grandparents for my children. They also took on the role of Mom, Dad, friend, protector, adviser and cheerleader for me; all at a time when the 4 of us were at our most vulnerable and frankly - messy. And they barely knew us. It has turned out, bar none, to be the most profound experience of what human beings can truly be to each other. Together, we forged ourselves into the whole and loving family that I’d intended when I gave birth to my first child. And it is the sole responsibility of Tom and Reva because without them, we would not be as we are now.

For those of you who don’t know Tom and Reva, let me introduce you.

Aren't they beautiful?

Reva is a computer professional with a brain that’s sharper than a razor. Even at 60 something, she on top of her game. But that’s such a teeny part of her. She is a breathtaking tapestry; earthy, utterly kind but doesn’t take any bunk, so deeply thoughtful about the human condition and what others are experiencing, so willing to see the positives in others, celebratory of life and thoughtful of death, fully accepting of others, a whiz with money, an AMAZING mother and a tireless volunteer for whatever she believes in. For 2 years, she has volunteered her time and energy to bringing a fiber optic network to Western Mass through Wired West. That fight probably has several more years to it even. And yet, not once was she ever too busy to nurse my internal wounds or spend time with my kids or whip up a wonderful dinner for all of us. She truly humbles me and I mean this from the bottom of my toes – I hope someday I am just like her.

Tom is a fellow artist – his art is photography. He has the tender soul and unusual world-eye-view that all artists possess. He is a little slip of a teddy bear that wears the funniest hats, the boldest/brightest shirts and a habit of shuffling around in his slippers like a little kid. He has in his life been a pacifist, a conscientious objector who has admittedly spent time in the “pokey”, a stay-at-home Dad, a teacher of sorts and a lumber yard worker. And like Reva, he is a tireless volunteer for the things he believes in. He is a man who will without a moment’s hesitation or question, give you the shirt off his back. And he is absolutely my partner in crime. If you pick up a banana and answer it like a phone then tell him, “it’s for you!”, he is the only person I know who will take the call and have an entire (and FUNNY!) conversation with the imaginary person on the other line. But my favorite thing about him is his dancing. You can’t help but be in awe then. He completely diverts from any “standard operating procedure” and dances with a wild abandon that I’ve never seen before. So much so that you can’t even tell if he’s on beat! But it doesn’t matter one lick because that beautiful child within him refuses to be contained when music is present. And all you can do is watch, riveted and smiling from the inside out. It’s a joy to behold another human being so happy, so free. It goes right to your core.

The dancing man!

So you can see why no ordinary present would do for Chanukah. My solution; this post is my present. My Chanukah present to you Tom and Reva is that the whole world should know what utterly amazing human beings you are. That you be celebrated loudly. I have no clue at all how I got so lucky but there isn’t a moment that I draw breath that I don’t give great thanks for the two of you. You took an almost broken woman and her 3 hurting cubs and not only turned them into happy, healed people but you gave them the gift of a FAMILY. You are in fact the reason I believe in good people.

ALL my love now and forever….now let's eat some of your yummy latkes!

My Chanukah gift to readers is simple: I hope you too stumble upon people like Tom and Reva. I hope you find good, loving strangers who catch you when you stumble or fall because these are the people who will add to your life - not subtract. Happy Chanukah!

The Art of Banking

2013-11-25T13:48:00.001-05:00

My Dad passed away a couple years ago. My Dad was an epic man; 6 feet tall, thick bones, massive hands that could crush and a aura that could bring a room to a halt. He was unbelievably smart yet uneducated, painfully sensitive yet withdrawn and possessed a set of ethics that I’ve yet to see rivaled in another human being. He wanted to be so many things but kept himself in his own words as "just a grease monkey." The quick synopsis; he grew up in a horrifically abusive home in the slums of Worcester under a single Mother who delivered regular beatings (with a cast iron skillet) and indignities that would have killed an ordinary soul. Somehow, he managed not only to survive it all but survive relatively sane. The result, however, was a man with emotional scar tissue so deep and thick that it was impenetrable. He was emotionally unavailable to any human being including his wife and daughter.

La Muerta (for my Dad), Copyright Denyse Dar 2011

When he passed though, something became painfully clear to me. My Dad didn’t want to ever hurt anyone but he also saw the world as an awful place that you needed to protect yourself from in order to survive. If I had a nickel for every time that man tried to coax me into toughening up and not being so “naive”, I’d be FILTHY rich! His strategy was to stay in neutral and slip under the radar. Mind your business, keep your chin tucked to your chest and be ready to swing if cornered. As a result, his life ended in nothingness. We had a memorial for him. It was painful because no one remembered him. The people who came, came to support my children and I. But it was clear, he’d literally made no contribution or impression upon the world around him. No one missed him and it was just a case of “oh that’s too bad.” So that wonderful, pained man shrank himself into such a small ball that he left this world with nothing more than a tiny “poof.”

Untitled, Copyright Denyse Dar 2011

What an awful ending for a human being; to have been so insignificant as to not even be noticed when you are gone. It’s painful to be his child and have that as his legacy. Especially knowing the rare greatness that existed in my Dad. But I learned in my father’s death that we each get out of life exactly what we put in. Maybe that’s akin to the concept of karma – I don’t know? But I DO know now, and have seen in my own life, that we absolutely get back tenfold whatever we put out. Like a bank account! And it’s all very fair and matter of fact. It’s just always our choice what we will contribute, if anything. With my Dad, because he put nothing in, he got nothing out. And I take real issue with all that. Because he had no right to complain the world was a crappy place when he didn’t do a single thing to add anything good to it. I saw it as irresponsible. If he thought the world was such a crapola place then frankly he should have bellied up. He bellied up to pull himself out of the slums. He bellied up to provide his kid with a stable home. So why didn’t he belly up in this instance?

Copyright Denyse Dar 2011

I learned so much from my Dad while he was living. He is where my art comes from and my ethics and even some of my very annoying faults. But I learned much, much more from his dying. He used to say to me that it was the natural order of things to do a little better than your parents. I took that to heart. I refuse to go out with a pathetic poof. And I refuse to be an armchair quarterback complaining about this world. For 6 years now, I have been making daily deposits into this “bank account”; something good, something positive, something loving. In my personal life, I do whatever I can, no matter how small. Whether I am being supportive to someone who is feeling down or leaving something yummy in a friend’s mailbox because I know they cook for 1 or are sick; I’m at least doing SOMETHING. Even my work is a form of making a deposit. And as a result, in 6 years, the world has changed drastically in my eyes. It’s a little softer, a lot kinder and so unbelievably rich. I hope when I leave, that I’m remembered for my deposits. I may not have started out so great but dammit, I left on a high note. More importantly though, I hope I leave behind 3 little souls who will follow the natural order of things and do a little better than their Mom and Grandad. It will mean that I was a smart banker – I started with 1 but invested well and turned my investment into 3. ;)

The Art of Waitressing

2013-11-19T07:39:00.000-05:00

When I was in college, I worked as a waitress. The job title of waitress does NOT have one modicum of power, prestige or even respect. And in the beginning, I didn’t respect what I did either. On days I made no money, I was pissed. I had bills and tuition to pay. On days I made money, I felt relieved because I wouldn’t have to rob Peter to pay Paul. My approach to this “job” was the same as every other waitress. We all strolled in early in the morning with the attitude of “yeah, let’s get this shit over so we can go home.” The basic tenet was that people are assholes. And some of them were. But most of them were just faceless, nameless folks who you hoped would tip you well.

Now, I don’t know about the other waitresses, but in my brain this was a very temporary gig. However, the joke was on me. It turned out to be a gig that I was stuck in for a long time. And man, was I frustrated. I just couldn’t understand it. WTF. I have a big fat brain and all kinds of skills so why didn’t I have a job that utilized those skills and paid me decent money?? My parents weren’t helping matters either. My mother would say with a sneer, you’re just a “waitress” as if it were a 4-letter word. The phrase, “What are we raising waitresses here?” became a pathetic joke within the family. My Dad would constantly pressure me, “just get a job somewhere – ANYWHERE - and work your way up.” Ugh. My guts would scream every time he said that to me. Couldn’t he see I was killing myself trying? Couldn’t he see that I was utterly desperate to have a job I felt was both worthy AND compensated me well? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I seem to do the very basic things that everyone else seems able to do?

At a certain point, my gut started to answer me and I didn’t like the answer I was receiving. There was a lesson in this job for me and until I got the lesson, I was NOT going anywhere.

Previously, when people sat down at a table of mine, like every other waitress I knew, I’d lump them very quickly into “good tipper” or “bad tipper” categories. But then it dawned on me; what a horrible thing that is to do to people. You shouldn’t shove people into little boxes based upon what kind of money you THINK they will give you for the job you do. I didn’t want them lumping me into the little box titled “waitress” so why was I doing similar to them? Maybe the lesson I wasn’t getting actually had something to do with people and not money?

That was one of those pivotal moments when a single epiphany sends everything spinning. I decided to forget about the money. Screw it – it couldn’t get any worse. So I started focusing on these people. What would happen if instead of just slinging hash at these folks, I instead treated them like human beings? Who was sitting at my table? What was their story? What did I have to learn from these people? And WHY were they in my station?

So it began. Each time someone was seated at one of my tables, I didn’t just walk up and give them the standard monotone, “Hello, my name is Denyse. I’m going to be your server today. The specials are blah blah blah.” I’d said it so many times that it was hollow. I was tired of talking at people. So instead, I’d saunter up, say hi and ask how they were doing as if I were making new friends. And I meant it! And they knew it. And guess what? I discovered that a LOT of these people were seriously amazing. They inspired and interested me. But I also had a job to do. I figured out that if I was going to spend all this time talking with people, I’d better figure out how to be more efficient at the waitressing part because the talking part was sucking up a LOT of time. Talking was not what I was getting paid to do. So instead of going to a table, asking what they needed and running back to get it – I’d hit ALL the tables, make one trip back for all the stuff and then disperse it as I made my chatty rounds. Meanwhile, all the other waitresses were doing the same old routine of one table at a time. Somehow I’d figured out how to do the same job with half the effort. The bonus was that the remaining half time was so enjoyable! I quit strolling into work in the mornings thinking, “yeah let’s get this shit over” and started thinking “OOOOoooo I wonder who I’m going to meet today!”

After a few months, I got pretty damn good at both caring for my customers and waitressing. As a result, my income began to rise. A LOT. Huh? Ok so hold the phone. I’m the same person, working in the same place which means nothing about my income potential had changed. And yet it had. Whatever I was doing, it was making a difference. I wasn’t hating my job and it wasn’t even remotely painful to pay my rent or tuition. Well that just egged me on even further.

Because I was expanding my awareness of other people, I started noticing that many of my customers arrived stressed out and in a bad mood. Now that’s probably the single most bothersome thing for me. At my core, I can’t stand to see people unhappy. I’ve been there and I literally don’t want anyone else to be there. So I started a game with myself. I decided to see every customer who came in contact with me that was in a bad or neutral mood, as a challenge. This may sound Pollyanna but it was my secret mission to turn the frowns upside down. I decided that every person I took care of had to leave with a smile. Holy shit did that blow the doors off everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. It not only turned my entire belief system upside down but proved that people desperately want to be happy. And because it’s so rare for a stranger to give the gift of happiness, boy they never forget you.

One morning, at 6am, a truck driver came in for coffee. He looked pretty chewed up. Being on the road, away from those he loved, driving endlessly through all the road rage – it took a toll on his soul and he clearly had no way to wash that off. This was a man who like me 6 months prior was thinking about his day ahead as, “yeah, let’s get this shit over.” He plunked down in my booth in a withdrawn mood, rubbed his eyes and asked for coffee. I got him coffee. But I also spent 50 cents to buy him the morning newspaper and asked if he’d like to read it. It was a small thing but he looked more shocked than if a second head had just burst out of my belly. As I watched him process it all mentally, I asked him how he was doing. And I meant it. I really wanted to know and I really wanted to help him remove some of whatever was weighing him down. So for a few minutes, I stood there with a pot of coffee in my hand and just talked with him. Mainly, I listened but every now and then I’d steer him toward some sort of “positive” because he wasn’t seeing it on his own. When I knew he was in a neutral place mentally, then I let him enjoy the morning paper as the sun rose and shone through those big windows. Nothing beats greeting the day like that – a warm cup of coffee, the rising sun and the leisure to read. It was a good moment and I knew it because this man, who’d arrived to me in such rough shape, was leaving renewed and SMILING. I said goodbye to him, wished him a great day and went back to work as he went to pay his 69 cent bill. About 5 minutes later, I went back to clean the table and there for a tip was a $20 bill. A $20 tip for a 69 cent bottomless cup of coffee? And then the cash clerk came to me to relay a message. My customer asked for the manager so that he could tell him what an amazing and invaluable employee I was. Wow. Just wow. The man only got a cup of coffee but apparently it was the best cup of coffee he’d ever had.

It wasn’t too long after that, I was at my folks house again. And, like clockwork, my mother made a dig about me “just being a waitress.” And without even thinking, I replied, “I may be just a waitress, but I’m the best damn waitress you ever met. And the proof is in the fact that I make just as much money in 3 days as you do at your shitty job for 5 days after 13 years there. So you keep going on about how I’m “just a waitress” while I laugh my ass all the way to the bank.” She didn’t make another waitress joke ever.

I have to tell you that I look back on my days as a waitress now with such fondness. I would absolutely do it all over again. If I’d had to live my life as a waitress, I would have done it gladly. It was the first time in my life that I truly felt connected to others. Not a single person thought I was a freak and not one person ever rejected my kindness. In fact, I had a lot of people thank me and express that it was a treat to spend that time with me. What it wound up doing for me on a personal level was that I discovered a work ethic in myself that I didn’t know I possessed. But more than that, I got the lesson and when I no longer cared at all, my life got to move forward. I understood that when we go along being concerned only with our own problems and misery, we’re trapped and go nowhere. As soon as I turned my focus off my own misery and onto to others (even in the smallest of ways), everything started to fall into place; a good place. No a GREAT place because as it turns out; all these things in life are somehow connected. Now instead of just painting a restaurant happy, I get to paint the whole world happy. It’s a wonderful thing!

The Art of Seeing

2013-11-14T13:46:00.002-05:00

I am often told about my paintings, “I wish I saw the world like that.” Well, let’s talk about that because it’s important! If it weren’t then I wouldn’t be told that constantly. My paintings somehow make a difference for people. I won’t pretend I understand. I don’t. The experience of being a creator versus an observer is diametrically different. But apparently, the way I view the world is something that others need. And I am all about passing that on. So, if you’ve wound up here, it’s not by mistake. You are someone, who for whatever reason, needs to see differently.

STEP ONE:

Do you REALLY want to see the world the way I do? It’ll take some change on your part; a shift in perception and a smidgen of practice. That is if you really want to see what I see. I’m hoping you do because honestly; the world is breathtaking. No, I’m not talking about that waterfall in the rainforest. I’m talking about the common, every day world; the people you live near, the things that surround you. We’re supposed to see the world this way. The result is waking up each morning with a joy and wonder about what you will see and do that day. It’s the reason my work calls to you. Why we’ve taught each other otherwise is an utter mystery (and frankly a real shame) to me.

So how did I get here? I took 2 drawing classes in college. And it changed my life. Not because I was drawing or because technical information was being passed on to me but because my professor taught me how to really SEE. You can’t draw accurately (which was the goal) unless you can stop your brain long enough so that your eyes can see and then your hand put it down on paper. I call this the process of "new eyes." I admit though, I took this skill to a different level but we'll get to that part later.

The process is simple. First, you have to acknowledge the fact that as you are going along, you’re not really paying attention. Your brain does a quick scan and fills in a LOT of information. (btw..there’s a ton of information, studies and tests out there that will prove this to you.) And it’s all based on past experience. Experiences which then become your belief system about the world around you. So, in reality, you are seeing what you (and your brain) want you to see. The problem is, you can’t gain a fresh perspective when you are dragging along every assumption from the past.

So what if you changed your gaze slightly? What if you really paid attention? What if you didn’t allow your brain to just automatically fill in all this information? What if you looked at every day objects with new eyes that had no previous information or experience? How would things look differently? What details would you find that your old eyes would have missed?

I’ll illustrate. Here are some photos I just took from my yard. Nothing profound here. You see this kind of scene every day which is why I chose them.

Here’s a pine tree in my back yard. Your brain is telling you, “Yeah, it’s a tree. Whoppdie do. Tall, straight, green n brown. Blah blah.” It tells you that because it’s simplifying everything for you into black and white. (And I mean that both literally and metaphorically.) But close your eyes, hit the mental reset button and look CLOSELY. The tree is certainly tall but it’s definitely not straight. It’s shaped like a “Y.” And there’s beautiful color there! The arrow on the left points to a section of the tree that is actually a deep shade of magenta. The arrow on the right points to a section that is purple. Holy crap – it’s not actually a straight brown tree at all. More importantly, how do you feel about this silly leaning tree now that you can acknowledge it's not brown and boring?

Next is the dead hydrangea bush in my front yard. Again, your brain will tell you, “brown and straight.” But again, look closely at all the stalks. What color are they truly? There’s an awful lot of red and orange in those stalks. Hey, they’re not actually brown! And look at the sense of movement in the stalks that are leaning and curving. Your brain skips over all of that and just tells you things it thinks it already knows.

STEP TWO:

Now here comes the kicker; the next level. The truth is, I go through every day operating upon the absolute assumption that I don’t know doodly-squat about jack-diddly. After all, at one time, I didn’t know the pine tree was magenta and purple. So I asked myself what other things I could have been seeing inaccurately. It turns out; A LOT! So, now I don’t just apply the “new eyes” principle to what I’m seeing. I also apply it to what I’m experiencing. And by doing so, I see the world the way I paint it; as beautiful, sunny, colorful and soooooo whimsically funny. Isn’t that preferable to the world you’ve been seeing?

My Welcome to Warwick, MA painting is a perfect example. Those chickens in the road...they're real. They are actual chickens - the Killay's chickens - and they run around on Main Street all the time. They're sassy chickens too. They move for no one. Well except the Fed Ex man which is why there's a truck in my painting. Now there are one of two ways to look at this chicken scenario. One way would be to get completely pissy about not being able to get to the Town Hall in a hurry without being a chicken killer. The second would be to see the absolute humor in these fearless chickens who have the power to stop ordinary men smack dab in the middle of the road AND to acknowledge how freaking funny it is that they only scurry for the Fed Ex man. It's your brain's choice which of those two outlooks it will hold.

So here’s what I learned to ask myself; what if the world isn’t what you think it is? If a pine tree isn’t actually straight and brown, then maybe the world isn’t a shitty place either. Maybe the world isn’t full of assholes that are out to screw and hurt others? What if it’s actually full of kind and good people, who have been taught and now operate on the belief that they need to protect themselves? And what if your brain is filling in information that isn’t really accurate? What if every time you meet someone, your brain is saying “this is a human and getting close or being kind to them could wind up with you getting hurt” and uses each time you do get hurt to say, “see I told you so!” Then you’d suddenly have a whole belief system around human beings as hurtful. But what if..just what if…you started to look at others as possibilities instead of liabilities? What would happen? How would your life change?

For me, it’s become very easy to reach out to others and connect. I simply do it with no expectation that anything - not even kindness - be returned. And the way my heart feels when I do (even when it has a negative outcome); wow. I also see a change in others when I interact with them from this fresh perspective. They blossom! Sometimes I am touched to the core by our exchange. Other times, I feel so proud that I made a difference. And trust me – being a positive experience for other human beings really does make a difference. It gives them hope and a sneaking suspicion that world might not be a completely sucky place after all. Yeah, I get hurt. Not very often, but it happens. So what. I’m strong and healthy enough to heal. The blessings of a whimsical and beautiful world have the power to heal those hurts very quickly. So try to SEE. Watch what happens. You have little to lose (and I mean that literally because the belief that the world is a shitty, colorless, cold place is nothing worth holding onto) and everything to gain.

HOLY COW! It can't be true!

2013-04-24T13:33:00.000-04:00

Recently, a very dear friend inquired, "Are you an artist because you are sensitive or sensitive because you are an artist?" I don't know the answer to that question. I responded that it was a bit like, "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" The answer doesn't seem important. What seems important is the truth that I am sensitive. It's something that permeates not just my work but through the entire core of my life and it's been that way for as long as I can remember.

It is however a double edged sword. My sensitivity means that I feel things (and think things) much more intensely than I think much of the world does. I become more attached to people and they make a bigger impact on me than they see on the surface. I experience happiness as utter joy and I experience sadness profoundly. Add in my innate optimism and it makes for going through much of my life with loving bliss in spite of the pain. There is a comfort and a confidence in the pairing. And my work shows you what that looks and feels like. It's not a bad place to be. And always, always, always, the joy eventually overtakes any pain and even heals it.

But this conversation with my friend caused me to inquire within about the nature of this sensitivity. Am I missing a filter that others seem to possess which acts like sunglasses shielding them from the waves of emotion? Because I see so many people who are impervious - almost numb. Like me, are they are born this way or has it been learned? And in looking at so many artists through history, you can see that sometimes that sensitivity is at times experienced as torturous. What is it about this sensitivity that it could be expressed as blissful OR torturous in different people? I have concluded that it literally depends on the point of view of the person. That it must be up to each of us as individuals to create our "heaven" or our "hell" here on earth.

One of my friends has a son with special disabilities. I hate that word "disabilities." To me, he is simply wired uniquely and beautifully. And when he was at my house playing with my children, he pondered upon some of my paintings. He turned to me quietly and said, "I want to live there." Most people would probably hear that as his fantasy talk but he and I have a very private understanding. His world is filled with authority figures concerned with making him behave and look as much like other children as possible. His reaction is negative and IMO rightly so. It's both frustrating and sad to watch. So I understood him fully when I replied, "I know sweetie." Because I really do know. I know what it feels like to have the world around you pushing and pulling to make you something awful when your soul is simply sweet and tender. I wish I could have told him that he must hold tight to his own soul in spite of all the things happening around him. But he doesn't have the capacity for that kind of understanding. The simple truth remains that if his internal barometer will only resist the pressure and stay true to the beautiful soul he is, he WILL live in that painting. No one knows better than me.

And so I began to wonder if we can form with force other human beings into being more "normal", maybe we can form with force (or at least partially train!) others to be more sensitive. I've begun trying. And for good reason. The result of opening yourself up to the world around you and being sensitive, is the beginning of acting in the spirit of giving. When you are sensitive, you begin to see the needs of those around you. The only way you could not is if you had no heart at all. And as demonstrated by events of late, you can see that it is human nature to help when you see someone truly in need. I've learned something very important though, giving is paradoxical. It seems you are giving something away (and that you will somehow have less) but when you give - you get back 100 times the value of what you gave away. And I want to be clear. You don't get something back from the person you gave to but rather you get something from deep inside your own self. Your heart grows bigger and becomes full. You will begin to find that the people around you will instinctively really love you. You will feel pride that exceeds even something like winning an Olympic medal. And something deep thing inside you will feel deliciously sweet instead of bitter. I can't think of a single thing in life more important than not feeling bitter at the core. There is no value in a life wasted in bitterness. I've seen it and so have you. And who on their deathbed ever says they wish they'd been more of a bitter asshole?

I realize that there will probably be people who read this post and think I'm a fuit loop. I'm used to that. I stopped giving a shit a long time ago because when I compare my world with theirs, I know with my every fiber that I'm not the fruit loop. The things I say here have always been about encouragement. It's necessary and needed. Every human being needs a cheerleader and I continue to be committed to encouraging people to run toward their goodness and happiness. Lord knows there are enough people acting from a place of pain, spreading it out. So if even one person reading this ponders their own choice of creating "heaven" or "hell", then the words of my silly blog will have the same achievement as my paintings. Go paint the world happy...give it a try...just once and see what happens. You'll change the world (and yourself), I promise.

With all the love and affection my heart can hold,
Denyse

P.S. Sorry for the misleading title but I've learned that dramatic titles get posts read and this one needed to get read :D *giggle*

The Art of Crisis

2013-04-15T17:06:00.000-04:00

When I was little, the term "mid-life crisis" was a dirty one. It was something said in hushed tones, generally about some man who in the middle of his life, supposedly lost his marbles and traded in his "old" wife and car for newer, younger, less practical ones in search of HAPPINESS.

In my teens, I started to hear about the "lost souls" who left their 6-figure salaries (or whatever success they had garnered) to run away to Africa or some screwball place to *gasp* help others and give their lives some MEANING.

I was always left with the nagging "why?" What is it at the heart of people that they one day wake up with the compulsion to completely scrap their lives? But in considering this, maybe the better question becomes, what is at the heart of so many human beings that they build UNHAPPY, MEANINGLESS lives?

I remember one day, my Dad said to me, "One day you wake up and realize that your life is the lyrics of that song; 'Is that all there is?" I was impatient with him when he said that. I really hated my Dad trying to teach me how much I should hate life. He'd done it my whole life. So I told my Dad then what had been on my mind for years; that I thought he was jaded. And he was. He was an abused, inner city kid and he'd seen the ugliest side of life and love. At the core, he fundamentally didn't believe in human goodness and clearly had a general sense of hopelessness that life just never delivers so why ask or expect what you clearly can't have? Sad. He cornered himself into a world that was both unhappy and meaningless.

In looking back though, I honestly suspect that my Dad was feeling vulnerable and was really trying to connect with me emotionally at that moment. Similar to someone standing in front of you saying, "Help me, I'm in pain and sad." If I were faced with that moment now, my response would have been entirely different. I would have experience on my side and instead of criticizing him, I would have encouraged him profusely. I would have told him that sitting there stewing in unhappiness was his choice and that for as long as he did that then his song was indeed true. That IS "all there is" if that is the choice you make. And I would have told him that it could all be different if he'd only TRY to be open to the possibility that he'd been wrong all those years.

I've had a hard three years; My first husband and friend passed away recently, I don't speak to my mother, my Dad died not wanting to speak to me and I've been going through a nasty divorce for 3 years now for no reason other than the other person wants to punish me for not accepting abuse for a lifetime. The things that have happened in these three years at times boggles my mind. I admit to being a woman in crisis in the middle of her life. For as hard as it has been, it's also been a blessing. That's right I said a BLESSING. There's an art to crisis and I'm becoming quite practiced at it. If my Dad were here now, I'd tell him that this is not all there is. What I know about my Dad and so many other people is that they are seldom willing to gamble the small comforts they have garnered over the years. They'll settle for a crumb of miserable comfort rather than willingly run toward the crisis of change. I see people spending their lives avoiding adversity at all costs and recoiling when it presents itself. That's an epic mistake. Because while crisis does come with "growing pains", the result is profound. We grow, become stronger and reinvent ourselves for the better. So the "Art of Crisis" is actually to embrace (and walk toward!) what on the surface seems like a very negative experience.

I wish my Dad could have had a mid-life crisis. It would have at least given him a 50/50 shot at dying a happier man than what he was. I think now about those early stories of men having mid-life crisis' and the supposed fruit loops that trotted off to Africa or wherever. I'm proud of those people. They were brave. Maybe they wound up happier, maybe they didn't. They definitely wound up with some great adventures and probably a whole lot of pride that they gave life every effort. There's honor in not settling.

2012-07-19T08:11:00.001-04:00

Reflections, ©202 Denyse Dar

I talk a lot about the process of creating from an artist's perspective. For me, it's the part of what I do that not only surprises me the most but interests me! There's so much in a painting that viewers can't pick up yet the commentary is important.

Each painting has a lesson for the artist. At times it is emotional or mental work being done. Other times it is a technical challenge that is being worked on. But most times it is a combination of the two. This painting was one of those.

I am in fact an untrained artist. I have nothing more than 2 drawing classes under my belt which for the first year I was painting, really bothered me. Mentally my challenge was to see myself as an artist in spite of my lack of training. We live in a world where jobs are specialized and a "professional" has the appropriate training. There for, I somehow could not be a professional artist legitimately. The support and encouragement from people around me helped me move out of that. What I didn't expect would happen was that I would move into a phase of NOT wanting to be educated in art. There are times now when I am frightened that if I take a class or workshop, that it somehow affect or change my style (and thus who I am as an artist.) I now understand why Barbra Streisand didn't get the nose job she wanted. No artist wants to sacrifice their craft - it's too precious and so we protect it at all costs. Yet I can't help but be frustrated when I am confronted with a challenge but lack technical know-how.

This painting presented two technical challenges; reflection on water and interior shadow. I'm sure these are basic elements and have a simple strategy. But I just couldn't bring myself to research or learn them. I stuck to my guns that I'd work it out in my own way. I wanted my brain to figure out what works for me and not what works for others. I'm not satisfied with the job I did in my first attempt and I really question how smart it is to disregard knowledge and training. The jury that is my brain, is still out on that one.

But the mental and emotional challenge here had a pay off. It's been a chaotic time in my life for sure. My days have been consumed with old chapters that are concluding and new chapters beginning. It's left very little time for "reflection" of any kind. This painting seemed to be a sort of moral inventory. I hadn't been able to really check in with myself over the past 6 months. I liken it to what would be happening if you were putting out a fire. You'd be busy finding water to put the flames out and not thinking about much else. In painting this, I had the first opportunity in a long time to think about who I am now after all these large events. And I pondered what I've learned, what I want now and who I want to be after all this. Like my painting, I saw my reflection and like the technical challenge - the jury that is my brain is still out on that one too.

An Ass With Stripes

2012-05-21T06:43:00.000-04:00

Ok..I know that society looks at us and makes assumptions about who we are based on the decisions we make. And the plot in the story that is my life has always been the struggle to "conform." There is a part of me that has always wanted to just blend in and yet, the reality of who I am ALWAYS makes that impossible. Over the years, I've come to liken it to being a zebra in a herd of giraffe. While the giraffe's have always been a gracious group about letting me hang out with them, they spend a whole lot of time noting my stripes, short neck and and the funny way I run on these stumpy legs. :D

And it's always been a challenge mentally. When I was younger, I spent a whole lot of time wishing (and trying) to be a giraffe. At a certain age, I gave up. Then I moved into acceptance. I'm a zebra..so be it. And the last few years have been about embracing being a zebra and seeing the perks. Then just two weeks ago, I received a test. God/Life/the Universe has a really messed up way of doing that. It was like I was being tested to see if I REALLY want to be a zebra or not because I was presented with a situation where I could almost look like a giraffe. And guess what? I fell for it. :/

Because art doesn't pay the bills on a consistent basis, I decided that the "responsible, adult thing to do" would be to send out my resume and get a job. I did that on Wednesday night. On Thursday morning, I got a call for an interview on Friday in Cambridge. I went. I got the job and was asked to start on Monday. It was the kind of job that for all intents and purposes, would be any giraffe's wet dream. So I skipped off to Cambridge! By day 3, I was surveying myself and the landscape. Here I am - a zebra - successfully doing the giraffe thing. I know myself well enough to know that I could have gone on like that indefinitely. And yet something was horribly wrong about it. Little red flags started appearing for me. Some red flags were logistical (like child care and transportation) but they didn't bother me as much as the little red flags that didn't have a name. I realize now what those red flags were: they're the ones that show up when you sell out and compromise yourself. Little signs written in chinese that say,

"You..are..an ass..with stripes!" *sigh*

I lasted all of 6 days and I guess depending upon your perspective, you could say that was 6 days too many or 6 quick days. As for me, I'm not concerned with the amount of time - I'm concerned with the meaning of it all. Whether it was 6 days or 60 days doesn't matter. I still threw my own "ass" under the bus because on some level I must still want to blend in with the giraffe's. I'm a little sad that at 45, after all the success I've had in 2 short years of being an artist, that somewhere inside of me I must not have FULLY embraced the fact that I'm a zebra. But I guess I'm also a little bit proud because 10 years ago, I wouldn't have recognized the test or the flags. I just wouldn't have been able to look at those 6 days and extract much out of the experience other than to say that I'd somehow (yet again) failed at giraffehood. Boy, I hope I can really get the lesson of being a zebra. Trying to be a giraffe has really been pretty pointless and stupid.

DAR't With a Purpose

2012-05-05T15:07:00.002-04:00

This will be slightly redundant for those who subscribe to my newsletter (and I apologize for that) but an EPIC moment requires a bit of redundancy. I try not to insert too much personal commentary into my newsletter, preferring that it basically just stick to facts and information. My blog is really the place for folks to come explore the crevices of my brain, while my Facebook page is the place for folks to converse and exchange with me.

So the latest art related development in my life is the installation of 3 enormous DAR's in the new Pediatric Wing at UMASS. It all happened at the speed of light. I received a call the first week of April asking me if I could create two companion pieces for Patsy's Woods (which is the painting that was used for my Copley Society of Art application.) I was told that I'd need to work quickly though as the installation would just be a few weeks later on May, 1st. And here's where Fate/God/whatever you want to call it - stepped in because within a day, I had created two sketches that were met with great enthusiasm. I was given a green light to paint them and by the end of the week they were both completed and out the door.

And so two things are on my mind about this experience. First, it was a reaffirmation that I simply am not in the driver's seat in life. For me, life is very much like what riding the train daily in the Netherlands was for me. I'm on this train (life) and I'm sitting next to other passengers - some stay on the train longer, others get off at the next stop. I chit chat with some of them, others don't want to talk. Some people annoy me or vice versa and the only thing we all seem to know about the ride is that there IS a final destination (death.) Everything in between the beginning and the end is a complete surprise. You might hope that the train stops at a certain station you've heard about and lots of times, it makes stops at stations that you simply wish it'd never visited. And even at times, things happen on the train - challenges. The only thing in your control are the choices you make in each of those situations presented to you while you're on that ride. I always try to make a concerted effort to just simply do the RIGHT thing - for ME. No one else but me. And there's great comfort in this approach to life. I'm seldom disappointed, most often surprised, have a lot of fun on the ride and at the end of the day, I'm almost always proud of the choices I made. So the recent UMASS commission has been both a huge surprise AND a lot of fun. The train just moved me along through the whole experience and because I wasn't trying to control anything - it went off without a hitch and in record time.

The second thing (and most important in my mind) about this experience is the meaning behind this development. I've always been someone who just wanted to "give" and "love." It seems like a bit of a freakish way to be and I don't know why I'm that way but I've quit asking. I've accepted that this is just how I'm wired. And there must be a reason because everything else in the universe seems to have a purpose on this planet. Why not too someone who just simply brings joy? And although I have no physical proof that this really is my purpose in life, I do know that the effect my artwork has on other people seems to reaffirm this. I feel such a sense of peace and accomplishment when other people respond joyfully to my work. We live in a culture that seems to focus on shock, horror and trauma. Every horrible happening is broadcast. Every human failure is highlighted to death. And I seem to be swimming against the cultural tide - I'm bringing a smile to people's faces with no expectation, no requirement that anything be returned to me. It's just a "here, have some love" given freely. And as a result, I'm changing the world in a small way. I can see it! In the past, when I looked around, I saw a lot of grumpy, miserable, sick people. Every day I see more and more people oozing excitement, being supportive and loving to me. It's been an AMAZING transformation and my God, what a train ride it's been. And so in wrapping this post up, I guess I'd like to encourage every person reading this to try to let go of the invisible score-keeping that the world tells us to do. Give freely. Who cares about whether someone else has gotten away with more or even took something from you. Dig under all that emotional rubble that's collected on your exterior and find your feelings, then let them out. Let it be ok to love without having that love returned. Give to the world around you and never mind what you think you can get. It's your purpose in life and you can't imagine how operating from that place will literally change everything. It's the difference between heaven and hell and it's solely your choice!

The Next Step in the Creative Process

2012-02-23T06:37:00.001-05:00

As I go along this unknown path of making art - I tend to do a lot of examination and dissection because it's such a new and strange thing. Prior to 2 years ago, creativity for me was easy and safe. I specialized in nothing and just did what inspired me in the moment. I'd make this or do that and it'd be fabulous then I'd go on with my life until the next urge hit. I think that's how most people deal with their creativity. But making the commitment to making art on a daily basis takes courage. I've had to be willing and OK with making crap. That's a HARD thing to do when there are a lot of people watching; some of whom would relish seeing you fail. Those are the outward points of staking your claim as an artist. But the most surprising aspects are the internal, unseen things that happen.

I've written before about the dynamic of inspiration. And I'll restate that it's something unseen. This job I'm doing has me playing and practicing with this invisible force. Which when you try to convey to other people, sounds like utter madness. I'm afraid of madness. I've worked too hard for sanity. And there isn't a single atom in me that'd be ok with the world thinking I'm mad. So sometimes I don't want to say the things that I experience or think. And yet I also feel an obligation to say those things because there may be another human being out there who is just as afraid as I am. It's my obligation to encourage them and see them through it. So even at the risk of sounding utterly insane, I've decided to discuss what I've learned and experienced the past few months. *taking a deep breath*

An example of "Expression"

When I first started painting (and seriously..what is wrong with you people that you thought what I made was good or had potential!?!?), I plucked things from my heart and put them down on paper. So creativity for me began as "expression". They were things I loved, felt or recalled with longing; Paris and the Netherlands, mandalas that let out my fear.

An example of "Dictation"

Then I moved into what can only be described as "dictation." I was taking dictation of the things I saw around me and loved. I can never find the words to express how much I love being home and the feelings this place and its people stir up in me. But my paintings did albeit badly. the dictation continued and I documented all the places I was seeing. And then the fall came. My life became chaotic with the business of art and I was unable to paint for almost 2 months. Although my heart felt like it was in a vice grip, the pain of not being able to paint was tolerable because I was SO busy. I guess life decided it was a time for receiving encouragement instead. So I went with it.

Where "Translation" started

But when I returned, I found something very strange and unexpected happened. Somehow, I was no longer taking dictation. Which really upset me. I get that it's normal to freak out when something changes unexpectedly but it was more than that. The first painting I showed up to seemed to have a LOT to say. I was no longer taking dictation, I was TRANSLATING. WTH?!?! How do you translate a language you don't even know?? That first painting of the Rail Trail was far more detailed and complex than previous paintings and within it was hidden emotional commentary. It was the usual real place but I was translating that into a dissertation about an emotion. And I have to tell you - it unhinged me mentally because of my fear of madness. The painting talked (minimally) about the happy surface I was putting forward and the dark, moss covered depths that lay just under that happy surface. I saw all my pain, angst, fear and questions right there on the paper and I have to tell you that there were days I couldn't handle sitting over that painting. I guess like lots of people, I don't enjoy having my "stuff" in my face. But I got through it and thought it was just a fluke. The creative process brings things up inside you and so my thought was once it was out, it would be gone. Yeah right.

The next TWO paintings were again translation. Again, real places but within was commentary on how I was feeling about being a public figure and being watched. Both paintings have me (the pine tree) on stage separated from the crowd. The first is by moonlight which is a harsh spotlight with the tree almost frozen and lacking detail. The second seems to be acceptance of that situation; the spotlight is softer, the tree more rich and full of movement and beauty. Again - WTH?!?!? The translation continued. So much for a fluke.

I've learned now to embrace it. I can't say I like it and I certainly didn't want to tell anyone about it because who wants to be the "Insane Lady", but maybe it's important. Maybe talking about the things that happen with this invisible thing I'm playing with is something that others need to hear so that they can be more sure-footed. I still fear madness. I won't lie. The lineage of artists who've suffered madness throughout the history of man is a long and wide line. I just don't want to be counted among them. I don't know how to stave off such a fate but at the same time, denying my creativity or even trying to back it down now would cause my soul to wither and die. It has breathed such life into my existence. I am living so much more fully, feel things so much more intensely and loving to a degree that at times I'm sure my heart will explode. You can't go back to ho-hum once you've been here. You can only do ho-hum when you've never known anything else. So all I can do is continue to walk through this experience and hope for the best. I don't know what the next stage is in creativity. It'll probably unhinge me as much as all the previous stages.I make the commitment to tell you about it though. And if it brings me to the point of madness, well then I guess that'll be the lesson that was meant to be taught to whoever reads what I write; don't do what I did? ;)

Companion Pieces

2012-01-02T18:58:00.001-05:00

I've returned to my studio finally and quickly trying to get back into my groove where I feel comfortable and safe. :) I have completed two companion pieces. The back story of the location can be found in my newsletter here.

I hate self-indulgence but there is considerable commentary within these two pieces which previously has never been present in my work. I seem to have something to say about my life as an artist now. The truth is, I never set out to be an artist. I just fell into it and there are days when it is overwhelming. I was not mentally prepared so there are moments when I struggle. Suddenly people are watching and have very strong feelings and things to say about what I do. Add to it the fact that my anonymity is largely gone on a local level and voila; you have these paintings.

Untitled, © Denyse Dar, 2012

All my paintings are painted to music. In each case, the lyrics seem to have meaning; I don't pick the songs, they pick me. I seemed to be a "blues" period with this painting because the songs were nothing but straight blues. This moonlight version was not only sketched to Stranded by Van Morrison but I also hiked this location to the song. I'm a horrific, diehard Van-Fan btw.

"Everyday, everyday, it's hustle, hustle time, hustle time
Everyday and every way, one more, one more mountain to climb
It's leaving me stranded
In my own little island
With my eyes open wide

It was painted to Black Sheep by Martin Sexton.

"Times they were changin
I did just a little re-arrangin
take a couple chances
my progress it advances
to that prize of my freedom...
gonna set my soul free."

Untitled, © Denyse Dar, 2012

The sunlight version was sketched to New Kid in Town by the Eagles. The New Kid in Town lyrics clued me into what was going on in the paintings (I knew something was going on but not WHAT).

"There's talk on the street; it sounds so familiar
Great expectations, everybody's watching you
People you meet, they all seem to know you
Even your old friends treat you like you're something new
Johnny come lately, the new kid in town
Everybody loves you, so don't let them down"

And painted to Dreamboat Annie by Heart.

"Going down the city sidewalk alone in the crowd
No one knows the lonely one whose head's in the clouds
Sad faces painted over with those magazine smiles
Heading out to somewhere won't be back for a while"

So in these paintings, the pine at the apex represents me separated from the crowd on both sides by a river. The moon and the sun are the "spotlight" and the crowd appears to be craning to see what the pine is doing. Thankfully the tone is benevolent so on some level it must be ok. And the depth of color, strong sense of shadow seems to be my response to all of it.

The Business of Art: Don't work harder, work smarter!

2011-10-27T07:21:00.003-04:00

The "goods" - a variety of gift items

I've always had a little saying. "The point is to work smarter, not harder." I'm not afraid of hard work, in fact I think I have a damn good work ethic. But the point of my little adage is to remind myself to analyze the things I do to ensure that I see the maximum return on my investment of "time".

Traveling advertising!

So for instance, this past week I have been preparing inventory for 3 consecutive events that I have coming up. November and December are typically "gift buying" times and NOT "fine art buying" times. So if I'm to stay in the financial gains arena AND remain high profile, I've had to diversify by adapting my work into gifts. According to Wealthy Mind, I instinctively went with the trend of selling. Since these events are all within a week of each other, I know I won't have time to replenish the inventory which I'm to sell. Which means I've spent the last week kicking out a variety of small, time consuming products.

DARing Reflections - mirrors with my favorite quotes!

And you can't imagine how terribly this goes against my grain! Because this IS in fact working harder, not smarter. There's a great quote book in the book You² by Price Pritchett that illustrates the trap I'm in :

"I’m sitting in a quiet room at the Millcroft Inn, a peaceful little place hidden back among the pine trees about an hour out of Toronto. It’s just past noon, late July, and I’m listening to the desperate sounds of a life-or-death struggle going on a few feet away. There’s a small fly burning out the last of its short life’s energies in a futile attempt to fly through the glass of the windowpane.The whining wings tell the poignant story of the fly’s strategy—try harder. But it’s not working.

The frenzied effort offers no hope for survival. Ironically, the struggle is part of the trap. It is impossible for the fly to try hard enough to succeed at breaking through the glass. Nevertheless, this little insect has staked its life on reaching its goal through raw effort and determination. This fly is doomed. It will die there on the window sill.

Across the room, ten steps away, the door is open. Ten seconds of flying time and this small creature could reach the outside world it seeks. With only a fraction of the effort now being wasted, it could be free of this self-imposed trap. The breakthrough possibility is there. It would be so easy. Why doesn’t the fly try another approach, something dramatically different? How did it get so locked in on the idea that this particular route, and determined effort, offer the most promise for success? What logic is there in continuing, until death, to seek a breakthrough with “more of the same”?

No doubt this approach makes sense to the fly. Regrettably, it’s an idea that will kill.
“Trying harder” isn’t necessarily the solution to achieving more. It may not offer any real promise for getting what you want out of life. Sometimes, in fact, it’s a big part of the problem. If you stake your hopes for a breakthrough on trying harder than ever, you may kill your chances for success."

Calendars - not terribly creative but a consumer FAV

And so with my product line, I have been getting hands-on manufacturing experience which is great experience for me in product development, all the while giving great thought to how I can solve the problem of achieving my goal (to have a product line in conjunction with my fine art) more efficiently. Unlike the fly - I don't enjoy banging my head against the glass over and over. So I have identified that SHOULD MY PRODUCT SALES BE HEALTHY this season (ya gotta do your market research) then the next step to avoid the trap: I'll have to outsource this function! Either I'll have to hire someone or look for a manufacturer. Because simply put, if I'm busy making products, I'm NOT busy making new art. If that continues then my business will soon run out of steam. My images ARE my business. So when I'm over this hump, I will be aggressively looking for that open door; ways to outsource my products so that I can get back to work and take my business to the next level.

A new spin on Family Photos

Try to apply this strategy in the things you do. It doesn't matter if it's related specifically to "business". It works on all levels and I find myself applying it to silly things like raking the yard and even grocery shopping. Because in the end - TIME IS MONEY! Resource Nation has a great list on Working Smarter. Give it a read.

I'm hoping these will be popular!

Billboards Along the Road of Life..

2011-10-24T07:03:00.000-04:00

Life has an odd way of validating that you are on the right road. I think I've learned through my experience of evolving into an artist (and through HINDSIGHT!) that there is soooo much to the adage, "Go with the flow." The validations are part of that flow and seem like billboards telling you along the way, "yes, you were meant to be doing this. Now keep moving!"

I wish I'd understood this much sooner in my life. It probably would have saved me a lot of headaches. I remember when I was first starting up my own web design company back in the 90's. What a struggle. Which don't get me wrong - that's life. But in looking back, I recall now that there were no validations along the way. It was just endless struggle with little or no progress. I probably should have given up much sooner but I'm hard headed like that. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't have done it at all. Because I understand now that no matter how hard you try or bust your bottom working for something - if it wasn't meant to be then it just won't happen. It's funny to me really of how many times life was trying to teach me this. I tried 3 times to become a nurse! LOL I'm not a nurse. I was never meant to be a nurse. And yet I wasted so much of my time, effort and life trying to force it. *shaking my head*

The good news is that I "get it" now. Once I let go and just went with the flow, I wound up here. Which is a very happy and satisfying place to be. And while there have been MANY validations in a short period of time, the most recent was jaw dropping. I received a letter from State Representative, Kimberly Ferguson which simply complimented me on my work and congratulated me on my success. It arrived in a very official looking envelope on State letterhead and she even laminated the article that ran on me in the Landmark. I'll be honest - I spent DAYS trying to figure that one out. Then I just accepted it for what it was - a beautiful billboard telling me that I'm on the right road and to keep on going. And so I shall!

A huge THANK YOU to Kimberly Ferguson for her kindness and the part she has played in being a billboard for me.

My Upcoming Exhibits

2011-10-22T06:44:00.000-04:00

Below is my upcoming exhibit schedule through 2011. I hope to see you there!

Petersham Cultural Council

Annual Art Show & Sale
November 4-6, 2011

Artists’ Opening Reception on
Friday, November 4th
7 to 9 pm
with wine and hors d’oeuvres
and music by
classical guitarist, Steve Rapson.

Art Ride Wachusett

Open Studio
17 Thurston Hill Road
Rutland, MA 01543

Saturday, November 19, 2011 9am-5pm
Sunday, November 20, 2011 11am-4pm

Take the Ride! Have your 2011 Art Ride Passport (download here) stamped at each studio and be entered to win a basket LOADED with art from each artist!

Holly Days

Friday November 25 from 1:00-7:00

Saturday November 26 from 9:00-6:00

Sunday November 27 from 9:00-1:00At The Princeton Center

18 Boylston Avenue

Princeton, MA

Holly Days 2011 is a fantastic and unique shopping experience with over 110 amazing artisans whose work will be available to purchase at this three day event. All my artwork and product-line will be available for purchase at Holly Days!

For more information, visit Holly Days website or view the Holly Days Facebook page.

UPDATE: Wild Ruby

2011-10-20T06:32:00.002-04:00

I'm happy to announce that Wild Ruby Galleria will be carrying my paintings and products! Wild Ruby is located at 969 Concord St (Rt 126) in Framingham, MA 01701 and it's totally my kind of store.

The items are AMAZING! I'm honored to be a part

The moment you walk in, all the colors of the rainbow smack you in the face. Susan St. Laurent is the proprietor with GREAT taste and an artist herself. Look above the door and you will see her bright, beautiful paintings.

I am working on my product line as we speak - making clocks, magnets, mini-prints and matted Limited Edition prints. I hope to be fully set up in the shop by November 1st - just in time for the holiday gift-giving season! Consider taking a trip to this wonderful shop and support the talented artisans she carries. Remember: buying local is investing in yourself - it keeps money circulating in YOUR local economy ensuring you have a job.

I'm exploring transforming mats from drab white

SERIES: 10 Reasons Why an iPhone is an Invaluable Business Tool #10

2011-10-19T15:42:00.002-04:00

10. Interface with Computer

automatic synchronization

This is really a no-brainer. You will have nothing but problems if you are functioning with incorrect or outdated information. If you lost your phone and everything was on it - you'd be (excuse my language here) SCREWED. And vice versa if your PC or MAC were wiped out. Backing up data nowadays is a must. And yet so few people do it - especially artists. Again, so many of the artists I meet are technologically illiterate. Not good. But something like an iPhone can facilitate the function of "backing up" effortlessly - removing the mental obstacle of not knowing what to do. Because it does it automatically when you plug your phone into your computer. And again, if you were to send out a communication from your phone - it should be going to the same people and contain the same information if you were to send it from your computer. Right? Well the automatic syncing ensure that this will always be the case. And if one of your pieces of equipment were to be wiped out - guess what? YOU HAVE BACKUP and can still function!

So I hope this series has been informative. I hope you understand now why I consider this silly little phone to be my "Atlas", carrying the weight of my world upon its shoulders. I couldn't live or function effectively without it. And I'm continually amazed at the new solutions this little piece of technology provides for my business and my life. Try to be open minded. Try to embrace an unknown - a technological challenge - like my friend Kathy Hebert. We recently met at the Mountainside Market and in our conversation, I told her about the benefits of this little device. I was so proud of her because not only did she embrace what the iPhone could do for her - she ran to it. She immediately went home and purchased one. Got herself set up with the credit card processor and the phone and away she went. I'm hoping she'll report back to me soon to let me know in what ways the iPhone has changed her life and business. Let's see ;)

SERIES: 10 Reasons Why an iPhone is an Invaluable Business Tool #9

2011-10-18T03:55:00.001-04:00

9. Social Media on the Go

It frustrates me how many artists are NOT computer savvy. Social Media is in my opinion the single most important business tool EVER. Yes i said EVER. It has in fact built my current career. A little over a year ago, I was just a SAHM (Stay-At-Home Mom) who was losing her mind in sea of domesticity. Facebook gave me the mental stimulation I needed and social connection I wasn't getting thanks to small children and nap times. I started doodling/painting and one day had the absolute balls to post it on my Facebook page. It snowballed from there. If you read all my Facebook posts for the past year and a half, you'd see the evolution which is nothing short of miraculous. What has taken other artists decades to do, it has taken me in less than 2 years! I don't credit this to myself because while I do believe my artwork is good - so isn't the work of a gazillion other artists!! The only difference between them and me is that I already had a working relationship with Facebook and it catapulted what I was doing across the masses. And in all honesty, I had no idea what I was doing at the time. It's only in hindsight that I can see what literally unfolded.

But once you start using social media, you can't stop. I'm not referring to the addictive qualities of Facebook and Twitter - I'm talking about the marketing aspect of the social applications. You must constantly post to keep yourself high profile. Which is where the iPhone app comes in! As previously stated, I don't have time to sit down at a PC and devote an hour or two to posting and marketing myself. The iPhone notifies me when something has been said and no matter where I am or what I am doing, I am able to respond. I take photos of events that I am at and post those photos with the happenings. I photograph my paintings in process and post those. I carry on conversations with my friends who are also potential customers. I mean the list is endless. And I can do it all while grocery shopping, taking the kids to the Doctor or while working an event. INVALUABLE! But don't take my word for it - there are a ton of sites out there that outline the business benefits of Social Media. PR Agency wrote a great outline. So did Site Pro News. Go read and find out more reasons why you can't afford NOT to Facebook or Tweet.

SERIES: 10 Reasons Why an iPhone is an Invaluable Business Tool #8

2011-10-17T10:26:00.001-04:00

8. It's a Camera Too - and a GOOD one

A point-n-shoot with GREAT photos

Again, don't think in linear fashion here. If you do, you won't really see the need for a camera on your phone. But again, this has really become invaluable to me. I don't have time to go out and photograph the places I want to paint. I just don't have that kind of time. My iPhone camera ensures that I don't miss inspiration when it hits. In my travels (and without fail) I pass through some beautiful spot and whip out my handy dandy phone to capture the moment. Almost every single painting I have done has been of a shot I took with my phone. I don't bother to go print them out full size - I have a docking station in my studio and use the tiny little photos as guidelines for my sketches. It makes my life sooooooooooooo much easier. And like i said - now that I have this - I don't miss a trick. And I don't have to "find the time" to go photograph the places that inspire me. When I get enough of them, I simply sync the phone to my PC and all my photos are downloaded to a folder which I access anytime I want. I've painted some scenes from my phone 6-8 months AFTER I took the photo! And the quality is nothing short of spectacular so if you are thinking it's just a dinky little camera - don't fool yourself. Apple gives a breakdown of the powerhouse contained in this nano-camera! In short, get rid of your point & shoot - you don't need it. You've got this.

SERIES: 10 Reasons Why an iPhone is an Invaluable Business Tool #7

2011-10-15T04:46:00.000-04:00

7. Mobile Banking & Remote Deposit

Boy are you going to LOVE putting the frustrations of the OLD way of doing banking behind you. I don't sit in line at the bank anymore and I don't have to deal with making deposits when I receive checks from customers. I can check my balance, make transfers, receive all my credit card payments from customers and do all my manual deposits right from my phone in the comfort of my own home (or anywhere other than the bank!)

Not all banks offer mobile deposits yet but it's coming. PC World ran an article back in 2009 talking about the mobile deposits. USA Today followed up this year. Read the articles and see how and why these things are going to change your life. The best part of mobile banking in my opinion is the ability to make check deposits using my iPhone camera. Take a photo of the front and back, upload to the app and VOILA! Life is beautiful isn't it? :D

SERIES: 10 Reasons Why an iPhone is an Invaluable Business Tool #6

2011-10-14T13:25:00.002-04:00

6. It's a Traveling Billboard

My iPhone Skin

iPhone has a a ton of cottage industries built around it. One of the largest industries are the "Skins." People not only LOVE but need to have their phones look unique so they don't accidentally grab the wrong phone and in the event it is misplaced - well they know what to look for ;) As an artist, it's folly to NOT put your artwork on the outside of your iPhone. I have been asked continually where I got my iPhone cover. What a beautiful lead in for a potential sale! The response is of course, "I'm an artist. It's one of my paintings." And again, a conversation ensues. They find out about me as an artist, I show them my portfolio which is on my phone and I direct them to my website if they'd like to buy one OR I ask them if they'd like order one from me. Again - I couldn't buy that kind of direct marketing anywhere.

A Letter from the Commonwealth

2011-10-13T20:30:00.001-04:00

Official letters always look intimidating; not this one!

There is no denying the fact that when you are serving others (my goal is spreading happiness) freely and without expectation and you LOVE doing it - wondrous things happen. Mountains move, the heavens quake and lightening strikes. My life has been the perfect illustration of this universal law. And each time I've practiced my life from this perspective, I've seen epic growth as a person and movement in my life that is nothing short of astounding. Outward signs have always arrived like giant billboards which seem to say, "Yes! That's right!" Today was another of those days.

There was a gigantic official looking envelope in the mail today. I admit I had a moment of confusion. I wasn't expecting anything official. So imagine my surprise when I read the letter inside and realized it was simply an expression of thanks. State Representative Kim Ferguson was moved by my work and sent me a lovely letter telling me as much and wishing me continued success. Thank you, Ms. Ferguson! It was both humbling and validating to know that the work I do really reaches people. So much so that a busy person such as yourself would take time out to just simply send a letter of gratitude and support. I love that I was a bright spot for someone all the way up on Capital Hill! I hope I can continue and show a small thanks for all you do.

SERIES: 10 Reasons Why an iPhone is an Invaluable Business Tool #45

2011-10-13T06:59:00.001-04:00

5. Email from ANYWHERE

iPhone comes equipped with email app

Every time I mention this to people, they give me an excuse. I don't have time, blah blah. Listen, that is EXACTLY why this is important! None of us has extra time. LITERALLY. I don't have time to sit down at my PC for an hour and go through the glut of emails I received that day. The beauty of remote email means that throughout your day, you receive notification that you have an email. You read it, respond quickly and send it off - all while doing your grocery shopping or pumping gas or whatever. So while it may SOUND like remote email is just another thing you have to do - it's not. It's managing a major task in tiny increments throughout your day while doing the things life requires. You can't sit at your PC AND pump gas or do your grocery shopping. So who are you kidding? (hint: only yourself) Heck - you could even send out your newsletter from here while you were sitting in the school parking lot picking up your kids from after-school sports.