Melding two groovy mediums



I’ve come to a place in my artistic life where I need to jerk myself away from the traps of technology and just shutter down for a bit.

My son visited me a few weeks ago. He came to spend time with his mother and to kiss his babies goodbye. See, for quite a few years he has been collecting some rather impressive vinyl. If I had appreciated them like he does I would not have asked him to get them out of my house. He gave them snuggles and then sold them all before heading back to Calgary. It was very hard on him. But it took spending several days listening to them with him to really get it. THIS SHIT IS GOOD. And his eclectic variety in music still makes me shake my head.

After he left to go home to his beautiful wife, my two sisters, the oldest and the youngest, descended upon my home to visit me and my mother who lives one floor above me. She has dementia so I am working hard to give her as much independence as she can have for as long as she can have it. That was a beautiful weekend and I loved the true feeling of family that I came away with.

This is week one of nobody in my home and I thought for sure I would dive into the studio and start the next project. My team, The Otown Bombers, had completed a yarnbombing of an entire park three weeks ago. I am proud to say we broke a record with this one. No media coverage this time, but I did post our own signs requesting that, while we know our stuff is awesome, could you possibly leave it for two weeks before you steal it so that the whole community can enjoy our art form. I also posted a Thank You at the four corners of the park to the Algonquin for the use of their land. It was a good bomb.

But I did not dive into a new project, I ignored the studio for two days but finally went in with the intention of tidying it as it had become a dumping ground. That done, you would think I would be inspired to start a new creation right? With a pinch of shame I say I was not inspired. I dragged my ass for 5 days more.

Tonight, as I walked down the hallway I caught myself peeking into the studio. I walked back to the living room and sat my big ass on the couch to watch tv. After 30 minutes of that felt uneasy. I went past the studio again and said to myself, “Don’t go in there.” Then I heard myself ask myself, ” What are you afraid of?” And my damn self replied, “If I go in I may never want to come out.”

This is the reason my life feels so mundane lately. I’m not feeding my soul, my calling, my intelligence and passion. I’m stuffing it with digital, meaningless and utterly consuming techgarbage. TV, Youtube, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, asscheck, spitneck, when the heck this shit gonna let me alone! Realistically, I had to ask my own self, ” when am I going to walk away?”

That would be today. I am challenging myself to pay attention to the artist that I am. Realistically I know in this day and age and my level of discipline, that I cannot walk away permanently. I am connected to a lot of special people through technology that I otherwise wouldn’t have the resources or energy to stay connected to people I love.

So, what am I willing to do? Well, sitting here listening to my son’s Rolling Stones, Black and Blue, I am willing to trade one noise for another. I will be replacing the the hum of the internet for the scratchy whispers of all the vinyl in my possesion and if I run out, I’ll just buy some more and learn to appreciate the passion of collecting music like my son. I challenge myself to leave my tv off for 30 days. No more News, Netflix, Crave etc. that keep me bound to a big screened idiot box. I will refrain from social media. I will post nothing. If  in an urgent moment, only private messages to save a life or help someone. I can do anything else I chose while listening to music. I am allowed to listen to music online but no videos.

Now, that I’m blogging about this is kinda oxymoronic,  yes?  Ummm yeah, and it will be my last public post for 30 days beginning June 1st. My birthday falls within the 30 day challenge but if I don’t do it now I know I never will.

You ever have one of those moments where the idea is larger than you logic or fear? This is one of mine.

I hope this made some sense to fellow creatives who get or are snarled in the morass of THE MUNDANE. It happens more often than our free frolic but I do hope this is a way for me to push myself past the swamp and onto the beach.


Open Studio Weekend One


What a great weekend for art and weather. Both were amazing and plentiful. Lots of sunshine and lots of art enthusiasts and artists all in one building. If you didn’t get a chance to come to The Loft and EBA open studio you have another chance this coming weekend to treat your eyes, heart, mind and soul with incredible, some edible, treasures.



Final weekend Open Studio 2017




Hello everyone. If you missed last weekend’s open studio in conjunction with the Enriched Bread Artists Open Studio please don’t miss this weekend as the final open studio for 2017.


Come and help color in the community Giantangle or add new pieces to it. It’s so much fun to do and to watch a collaborative piece unfold.


The Loft Art Studios will be open for two consecutive weekends. Visitors are welcome to explore our unique art space, meet the artists, and discover our diverse collection of visual art,

Opening Night:
Thursday, September 22, 2016, from 6 to 9 pm

First Weekend:
Friday, September 23, 6 to 9 pm
Saturday, September 24, 11 am to 5 pm
Sunday, September 25, 11 am to 5 pm

Second Weekend:
Friday, September 30, 6 to 9 pm
Saturday, October 1, 11 am to 5 pm
Sunday, October 2, 11 am to 5 pm

The Loft Art Studios are located on the third floor of 951 Gladstone Avenue, Ottawa, directly above the Enriched Bread Artists who will be hosting their open house on the same dates.

Found Art


I’ve been absent from my art blog for quite some time. As some of you may know  I’ve created a bit of a side business for myself besides my full-time job and my art I am now a dog care provider. My business and I am called The Furrrry Godmother. It keeps me quite busy but it doesn’t keep me from my studio. I blog more about the dogs now than my art because it entertains me and keeps the parents of the furr babies informed.

I guess you could call today’s blog a guilty confession concerning my laziness in art blogging but not idle anywhere else in life.

I’ve been working steadily on the giantangles that I began last year in black and white. I’ve completed it and also one in teal. I am currently working on a purple one.

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I have one more painting in this series. It’s going to be red but you never know, it could turn out green or orange depending on my mood when I put brush to canvas. Each acrylic painting is 30 x 40 with the exception of the purple one which is 32 x 40. I bought the wrong sized canvas but just had to start painting what was in my head. I like to think that the painting demanded more space than it’s predecessors.

So, that is what I’ve been working on at the studio. At home I’ve been drawing zentangles of all shapes and sizes. I’ll frame some and not frame others. I’m not quite sure what I am doing with most of them yet. I had wanted to make cd case cubes but they are just too tacky for my taste.

In textile I have begun a new yarnbomb project that I hope you will all enjoy for a long time. It has to do with birds and rooftops. Stay tuned there will be a release party. I’m very excited about it.

So, I’ve gone to the dogs but my passion is still very much alive in the arts. I promise you, that flame will burn internally and eternally !

Now I want to share with you a found piece of art I stumbled upon today which prompted me to come and blog. I am of Ukrainian, Irish and British decent. I connect most closely with my Ukrainian roots for some reason. I don`t question it.  Today I discovered this gorgeous sculpture by a Kiev artist named Nazar Bilyk. It is simply called, “Rain”. I think its stunning…enjoy and ciao until I blog again.

Nazar Bilyk-Rain


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Seven Wonders.”

Khalil Gibran once said that people will never understand one another unless language is reduced to seven words. What would your seven words be?

Please may I have your attention. Thankyou for giving me your attention. Yes let us talk about our ideas. I see your point of view. You are allowed to believe that. We can be the same and we can be different. Balance is achieved this way.

Seven Wonderful Words


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Singular Sensation.”


Today I won 50 million dollars !

The blogs that would follow this one singular sensation in my life would outline the following activities:

  • Calling Janine Willis and asking her what she needs to continue her amazing work with Hearts for Africa in Swaziland for the next 3 years.
  • compiling a spreadsheet of all my family and extended family debt and paying them all off in full
  • creating a scholarship for young adults to study art in a foreign country
  • buying the dream house I just posted about on my facebook tonight
  • taking my entire family on a dream vacation..and I mean EVERYONE
  • study art and people world wide and helping where I can

There is not much more in this world that I want other than to be a contributing member to my tribe…the humans. Currently the fuel that drives change in this fabulous world that we live in is money. Many of us wish that the currency of change was kindness and cooperation and compassion.

REALITY CHECK!! The world really is not like that at the moment. But by jumping on the  “making a difference bandwagon” as opposed to looking out for number one, we can influence each person that we know.

humbly yours,



In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Pay It Forward.”

When the mundane job gets tough and I’ve had enough I generally take 15 minutes to just walk away and collect my sanity. I’m very grateful that I do have a job that keeps me fed, clothed and stocked up on paint and canvas but sometimes you just need a white chocolate, macadamia cookie to put things right.

And that’s just what I did. Went to the closest sandwich shop to get that cookie. I paid with a $10 bill, got my change and sat outside the shop to eat my cookie. There was a panhandler whom I see often on the street. I decided that once I was finished my cookie I would give him my change. but I needed to save $5 for bread on the way home. I would give him all my change.

I began to adjust my change purse and my wallet when I realized that the cashier had short changed me $5. As I set to standing up there she was at my side, apologizing for making a mistake and handing me the five dollars. At the same instant another woman was offering to buy the panhandler a sandwich. He stood up and walked toward the shop passing me. I handed him the five dollars.

It was a very sweet moment. Not more than 10 seconds had passed since that $5 bill had been given to me in an act of honesty and kindness and I knew that I had to give it up to the man in need.

It felt so natural and real and the only moment of that day that I treasure.

Naturally Flowing Kindness

Retreat Results

Retreat Results

Each year I embark on a full day personal retreat along the Ottawa River. It became a tradition when I was searching for energy and inspiration as an artist around 2009. But now I am blogging this confession. I have not been on one of these retreats for 2 years and I have not been to my studio in 2 months. I’m stuck, blocked, dead in the water.

Last weekend I decided that I MUST go on my retreat.  I deduced that I can’t expect energy from the concrete jungle. I needed the same energy I got from spending 4 days in Westmeath. I realized that I didn’t go last year because I was just too tired and the planning usually took me two weeks. I would research different retreat ideas and incorporate them into a full day schedule. Seeking that creative nectar from the bosoms of Mother Nature should be structured after all …nes pas? (insert sarcasm of the highest level).

When I finally made up my mind that I was going and my back which had been wrenched for two weeks finally jerked back into place,  I also chose not to structure this retreat. I just packed a lunch and headed toward Quebec. Yes, I cross the creek from time to time but mostly for the cool trails that eventually lead me to solitude. Don’t get me wrong, Ottawa has the same trails but I prefer to start in Quebec and bike my way back to Ontario.

My good friend Mimma had suggested that I check out Recycle D’art along Montcalm. I absolutely did that and was impressed with the creative welding that I witnessed. The coolest piece for me was the odd looking all white cyclist and the creepiest one was the fur teepee with a face. I liked the tv fountain and really adored the multibreasted fairy along the water. It was a good start to a long day

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I made my way from this exhibit to the trail that leads to Park Mouffette. About half a kilometer into it I realized how out of shape I am and remembered how many freeking hills this trail has. I came up the fourth one and stopped at an old railway bridge that was no longer in use. I used to live close to this bridge in Ottawa and always promised myself that I would cross it one day. Now was as good a day as any and I sure didn’t want to take on any more of those hills in this heat.

I was immediately rewarded with a landscape of graffiti and birds. The two seemed to go hand in hand and lived in harmony. The squawking of the islands full of sea gulls and double breasted comorants gave life to the expansive bridge from Quebec to Ontario. It was all rust and urban art. Every inch of steel was harmonious and alive. My multicolored yarnbombed bike really stood out! I came across two teenagers just before Lemieux Island. They were jumping off the bridge and swimming in the river. Such bravery ! Then I came across another couple who were taking pictures from the bridge and smooching. At one point I heard male voices in the bushes and I became a little afraid. But they just smiled and lifted their beers as I walked by their private bush party. Phewf!


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I thought of my dog Ellis who used to love these trails too. I wished he was with me on this one. He always gave me courage, strength and love. Just thinking of him made me smile. I moved on with him in my heart and knew exactly where the next stop was going to be.

Remic Rapids has always been a source of energy for me and for many, people. John Ceprano is the man behind the sculptures there and I remember fondly the first time I met him on my first retreat along the river. When we met he filled me up with optimism, love for my fellow man and artistic appreciation in the first ten minutes of our conversation. I knew he would be a friend for life. And , six years later it is his hug I look most forward to when I bike along the river.

John really has a connection with nature and humanity. He’s fun to watch. As I approached the sculptures at the rapids this day I was disappointed to see he was not there. A young couple had crossed the taped off barrier and were checking out his work when all of a sudden one of the sculptures came crashing down. I was mortified and felt so bad for John that his work is so easily destroyed. I also felt bad for the couple that accidentally knocked it down.  Then out of the corner of my eye I see John strolling toward the couple with a smile on his face and an “oh well, shit happens” swagger. He didn’t even blink an eye and was immediately putting the sculpture back into balance. The young couple stayed and helped him and it was their wedding anniversary. What a great gift for all people involved. As it turns out the young man is an American Italian like John and they had the most wonderful conversations. I realized that I was on this retreat to listen.

It is the deep, hippy go lucky conversations, the long flowing talks that keep me coming back year after year. I listened, watched the ducks and geese and water and listened to these people connecting. I watched John teaching the young man his skills as they pieced the tower of rocks together again. I then knew that I was looking in the wrong place for answers and it was to him that I asked once we were alone,  “What do you do when you are blocked?”  “Well,” he replied, ” you just have to wait for it to pass. It will pass. You just do what you can do to get through it. It happens to everyone no matter what you are working on.”What a relief it was to give up the guilt I had been imposing on myself for weeks and weeks. I had to hear it from fellow artists. I’ve since heard the same thing from several artists. My mojo took a vacation. I don’t have a choice but to wait for its return. I could possibly take this “creative time-out” to just listen and learn new things. There are a million things I could do, or I could do nothing at all. It is truly up to me. I’m thinking I need a mentor and the other side of me doesn’t think she needs no stinking teacher. I giggle as my twins and crab battle it out inside me.

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These are the results of my retreat. I left my home at 10 a.m. and I returned home at 8 pm. I promise myself to not skip any more annual river retreats. And….the unstructured version works best for me.