Gonna try to make a more conscious effort to make a post once a week, consistency counts.

I sold my painting! I painted it 10 YEARS ago. It contains a hidden heart, for every crush I was too inept to reciprocate. Art is a long game..

I painted this in 2014, I was just a few months into my first steady nursing gig, as a visiting nurse. That job was challenging, chaotic, kinda nuts, but it really did make me grow in so many ways. I’m such a better parallel parker now, I can regulate my emotions whilst sitting in rush hour traffic as my phone buzzes off the hook with people in need, I can prioritize what needs to be done first, and I can take it easy on myself when appropriate, to stay sane. In that time I moved back to my hometown, had two babies, back to back, and started illustrating, then writing, then publishing picture books! You ask me if any of this was coming while I painted this, and I would have said, “It’s never going to happen, because I can’t sell this painting.” Turns out, just ahead of my time again, by approx. 10 years.

There’s a Cindy Sherman quote I think a lot about, and I’m likely doing a bad job paraphrasing, “Fame first, the real money comes about 10 years later.”

(As I write this, I actually just sold another painting.. one of a Frilled Lizard..)

A talk with my old art teacher, Doug, comes to mind. I think he was testing the waters to see if I’d ever consider being an art teacher, “You can be immersed in art, without having to cater to the market.”

I think about that a lot. I ended up being a nurse because of better job flexibility, also I wasn’t so sure of myself as a practicing artist quite yet. I didn’t want to be an art teacher to only teach kids how to go to art class. I wanted to pick up skills to survive well, then funnel the resources into my risky artistic experiments, knowing that I had something to catch me if I fell.

I did get some feedback from my kid’s school. I had dropped off a copy of Maples Garden and my new book, Zebrathenia. The principal had initially expressed interest, but turns out the library budget is out, so a better time to approach may be October. I’ll try again. I’m glad I did, so now I know.

Rejection is never fun, nor is waiting for sales, but so crucial to being an artist. For everything you make and try to put out in the world, with it, comes the possibility that it won’t be well received. I wish I didn’t have to go through it, but at the same time, I’m an Artist, and I’d rather not live than not make Art. That’s the deal you make. Art like a sport, dream high, love lots, fall hard, and you get back right up again. It’s because I’m trying something new, and that’s what makes it exciting for me. The highs are high, and the lows are low, but if I could just step back and realize, just to be on the rollercoaster, to get to a point in my life where I can make whatever I want, and share it with the world, no matter on what scale, is blasting fun enough 🤩

Here’s where I’m at in the Animal Furniture picture book! All the pages are painted up, just gotta squeeze in time to scan them. I can’t wait to see the finished product, to both share it with the world and to risk getting rejected.

#ContemporaryArt #CanadianArtist #WomenArtists #ArtBlog #ArtistLife #CreativeJourney #OvercomingRejection #KeepCreating #HamOnt #HamiltonArtist #OntarioArt

Outerspace Fun 60 x 36 inches 2014 acrylic on canvas

This painting works every which way because of the anti gravity ! Outer space Fun 60 x 36 inches 2014 painted over 10 years ago. When will they be bringing up pets in space you reckon?

Always loved learning about da Vinci. Bet he had too many ideas he knew what to do with. Versed in art and science, way ahead of his time. Designed weapons until he got jaded and started his work on the Mona Lisa, the only non commissioned painting he carried and perfected until his death. I believe he would have been interested in AI, space exploration, all if it, and I think he would have done it in such a way that displays and honours our humanity. We always call artists avant- garde, ahead of their time. and yet never astronauts, who so clearly are. In the great divide between art and science, humanity brings them together, I don’t think we talk about that enough. #davinci #spaceexploration #nasa #avantgarde #artemis

Applying to have my books as part of the Hamilton Public Library catalog. Growing up in a first generation immigrant household, exposure to fine art and art as a concept of expression wasn’t a thing in my parent’s realm of understanding. I was in my mid 30s when my dad asked if I ever heard of a painter, Van Gogh. not because they weren’t curious either. I remember the old organ from the 70s that collected dust in the corner, mom got so good at sewing she could whip up a school uniform in a day for less than $20 in fabric and thread. I think they were too busy setting up life and figuring out the logistics of surviving in a new land for them to worry about recreational hobbies that lead to risky career paths. Nonetheless, they were big on reading and education so trips to the library were endless. The public library was where I was first exposed to it all. Picture books, Robert Munsch, Bill Waterson comics, the how to craft, build, sculpt books, biographies on all my favourite artists. Not just the works of painters, but writers, musicians, biographies of interesting people who dared to step outside of the box: dvds, cds, media content, accessible and available to anyone. I loved going then and I visit the same local spots now with my kids. It would be a personal achievement unlocked! So let your local librarian know, or purchase a copy for yourself: Both books are available. Maples Garden at Amazon, Indigo & Chapters, Zebrathenia in my shop on my website http://www.lisangart.com #hpl #canadianillustrator #canadianauthor

After art school I found some friends kinda crazy.. I couldn’t express viewpoints, or they’d actively discourage me from associating with certain groups. Some ditched instagram for bluesky, adding to alienation. I don’t bother with art grants cause I don’t wanna make art about my victimhood. I resent being labelled BIPOC, my nonwhite genetics don’t define me. The culture makes me feel bad about wanting to say what I want, people are so reactive now. You’d think an education in the arts would foster a culture for differing/controversial viewpoints. This is how we find Truth. It used to be about the Art.

1 super infuriating memory I have bubbling up brings me back to my Toronto days, meeting with dealers in their galleries. “The Kim Dorlands and the David Milnes sell well, why don’t you paint like them?” Sure, but what about what I want to say? Then the same dealers did the whole “oh we got to do better with BIPOC voices and representation.” 2020. Nah, you pretend to be original and creative, but u gotta keep the lights on just like me everyone else. The only difference is that I mean what I say. & now that I have the resources.. I’m starting my own picture book company !

My books will be about critical thinking, creative expression, living freely and valuing the person within. I started it to give myself a place to define the kind of culture I want to partake in. I hope others will join me and if not I hope the act in itself will prove that we still live in a free world, where one can still say what is on their mind, and not just what sells to who has the money.

Getting a lot of painting done for my first animal furniture picture book.

The zebra book, I ordered a first edition of 40 copies. They are still getting printed, yikes the publish world is rampant slow.

I’m a mom of two young kids, did I mention. The latest craze is stickers. I use them as linking objects. They hate saying goodbye in the morning before school so lately I’ve come with a system of letting them pick a sticker to accompany to them to school. I love stickers, like little pieces of art, and they love them too. A lot better than sugar too. It’s become our fun little morning routine now.

I changed one of the characters in my book from a singing cardinal to a singing sparrow. The cardinal seemed too flamboyant for what I was going for. It’s a character that encourages the protagonist to be brave and find their own voice. I wanted her to be beautiful, but wise in a less flashy, more enlightened way. I then found my thoughts wandering over to my old art teacher again. He would have been the singing sparrow in my life, the Tulip Ring, forever blooming in my thoughts. I started some sketches, from memory. Hoping to relieve some of the tickle it’s got on my brain. I think I got it close here:

I proceeded to wander on the possibilities of where it could be. Is it with family who hold the secrets to his past? A dear friend who guards his most embarrassing moments? A trusted lover with juicy tales? Did it not make it past the skiing accident, tragically crushed on impact, nestled in a functional bird’s nest perhaps. Maybe it slipped off his finger, landed in a ditch, and later discovered by a passing wanderer who pawned it in a shop somewhere off the coast of BC, maybe an antique shop where the furniture and housewares come to life and turn into animals when no one’s looking 👀 I may never know, but I’m leaving the door open, may it find its way back to me, and if not, just momentarily!

Another fantastical thing that happened this week. My friend and author of Maple’s Garden, Christine Van Geyn, ran into my fourth year nursing professor. This woman was my launch pad into my nursing career and thus gave me the key that unlocked my personal freedom. I remember having to write these reflective pieces as part of our studies. It was with her, I uncovered this inability to name my own feelings which sent me into therapy after I graduated that year. Therapy led me to face my tangled relationship with myself, art and eventually Doug whom I never internally acknowledged, nor had a chance to say goodbye to.

She supported our book and passed along a message: she still has this illustrated card I gave her. I believe it was this one, the painting that birthed the idea for my upcoming Zebrathenia picture book ! I painted it in around the time I was under her mentorship, actually. Time is circular.

#artdiary #picturebook #artstory

I am TOUCHED by art.

Recently I dedicated a picture book to my old art teacher. He is no longer with us for about two decades now.

I can’t stop thinking about this ring he used to wear, it is of a tulip. A very masculine and chunky metal ring in the shape of a very feminine and sensual tulip. It is both gentle and demanding. That was the sort of person Doug Moore was, a kind person with a robust way of going about it. I’ve always been a maker and not a collector, until this experience hit me recently.

I was contacted by Doug’s family, through a friend. They were touched and liked the book. I had to ask about the ring.

They say an artwork grows with you, acquires a life, and a meaning of its own, overtime. I’ve met people who have instantaneously rearranged a whole week’s plan at the glimpse of a painting, just to acquire it. I’ve heard from folks who can’t stop thinking about a painting for days on end and people who have regretted not buying something when they had a chance, for years and years. This unsettling yearning has never really hit me before, I’m a maker by nature and usually on the giving side of it.

However, this is something I can not replicate, sure I can carve the tulip, make a cast, pour the metal, even pay someone to do it, but the real “Je ne sais quois ” that really embodies the artwork: the nicks and dents it has likely acquired overtime in its travels, the story of the thing, the way in which it is embedded into the universe of our waking world, our spinning globe, I cannot make up. I even have a memory of him using this very ring to show me silver point, the process of using metal to scratch a drawing on gesso. The result is a shimmery, silver mark on a snow white background, along with a scratch on the ring where it hit the gesso. I know because I effectively ruined a ring in the shape of a snake doing a whole Salvador Dali inspired drawing with silver point. I learned about Salvador Dali that semester and that tulip ring acquired a scratch, a la me.

The drawing turned out good and Doug liked it more than I did, I know because a friend reminded me he still had it hanging in his office after I had long forgotten about it, and this man was not shy of throwing sentimental garbage out. The pursuit is just as invigorating as its ownership, my relationship with the Tulip Ring begins:

I met Doug when I was 12, I didn’t know being an artist was a thing you could be just quite yet. I stared at this ring during every art leason he gave, up until I turned 19. One day he told me he made it during a masters program in Mexico. He probably caught me eyeing it. I was far too shy to pry back then. I learned you could study cool art in Mexico.

Doug was an active, football playing dancer in his youth, so it was crushing to witness his life after he fell asleep at the wheel, leaving him a parapalegic. This I only know because I ran into an artprofessor who taught him when he went to McMaster university. A tragic major life change for anyone but I wouldn’t have guessed, for the time I knew him, he was circumventing the world, multiple times. He travelled more than anyone with two working legs I knew. A tragic life but not a tragic person. He wasn’t shy of being vulnerable either.

He dated, got rejected, got cheated on, stories and questions he’d answer as we chiselled away, making our own marks on these blank plaster blocks, he was more or less an open book. Regrettable feelings about being a bully in his younger days, personal faults he shared, he was human and did find love in the end, and maybe that’s not my story to tell. He studied every religion under the sun and never let you get away with BS, in all its glorious forms, and of course I ruffled his feathers. The ring likely met the Dalai Lama with him. Every person he ever met probably took notice of this one-of-a-kind, unique ring. I fantasize about being on my own around-the-world-art-journey one day, chancing on meeting a stranger who recognizes the ring with their own story of Doug to share. For me, the ring encapsulates his memory so well, and I haven’t seen that ring since I saw him last, before he died in a tragic skiing accident. He had a military engineer develop him some special skis. He wasn’t gonna go laying down, I think we all knew that.

I haven’t thought about the ring until now, when an opportunity arose to ask about it. Doug was never one to let a good moment go, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. This linking object, that started interesting and novel at first, and overtime, collected meaning as all the events unfolded themselves around it, and now it’s burned in my memory, just thinking about it and knowing it’s out there, somewhere, with its lose and mysterious connection to me, and a connection to those whose lives Doug touched. Doug has a second life in that ring, I feel it. Just thinking about it gives me a mental high, like a hidden gem left to uncover.

I’ll accept a photo of the ring even, but nothing beats the truth of an original, Doug can attest to that. To whoever has the Tulip Ring, I’ll even trade a painting for it. Big or small. ANY painting 🌷

Tmw will be the last Cold moon of the year. Meaning it’s gonna be big and bright as it will be close to the Earth! I’ve always loved the magic of the moon and now with my young kids, the giant glowing face in the sky is more prominent than ever. There’s just something magical about the luminescent disc in the night sky that no one asked for. It gives and gives, lighting up the darkness by nature, like light at the end of a tunnel.. -like the forty five minutes of painting time I get after putting the last one to bed before I pass out in front of the tv myself 🌕

I wish I could paint as fast as I could imagine. The world is full of wonder and I am only here for a sliver of a fraction. If you get a chance to catch a glimpse of the last cold moon, remember it bright. A toasty painting for cozy winter nights, this painting is for the griller in the family and a feisty take on your children’s favourite bedtime story.

#wonder #supermoon #cow #goodnightmoon

A children’s picture book about a group of free thinking zebras who use #democracy, #teamwork and #creativeproblemsolving to defeat their biggest enemy, THE LIONS!!

This is my first written, illustrated and self published work. Taking pre orders now if you would like a signed copy for $25.00 CAD, just let me know.

I did it ❤️