Fable

Humans need stories. This is how we better understand ourselves and why folklore has been around since the dawn of time. By definition, a fable is a short moral story with fictitious or improbable characters and events. We learn to understand who we are by identifying parts of ourselves with the characters and events in fables. According to Marie-Louise Von Franz, “All we do actually with fairy tales is reinterpret the religious and folklore traditions so that they may again be linked up with the conscious attitude.” In the telling, repetition, and recycling of our stories we are able to identify what is shadow and what is heroic. What we learn from them depends on our willingness to engage in critical thinking and self evaluation.

Nocturnal No. 5

Epiphany in Eden

Making a Mantle for Poor Roughskin

The Girl with no Hands

Crown: A Process of Enlightenment

Having been domesticated, presented with rules and explanations in our first half of life, we first live according to the belief system we were given, which for the most part is a system of punishment and reward. To be enlightened, to receive spiritual light that imparts knowledge, we must confront, question, and deconstruct these rules. Our second half of life is a pilgrimage, an epic journey of sifting and sorting through what we have been given, keeping what is good and discarding what is harmful. Stages of growth will ask us to acknowledge the complexity of being and continually progress toward enlightenment.

It is a mysterious and merciful surprise to find the divine when we do it wrong, when we break our rules. Enlightenment comes from tragedy, from bitter compromise, from overcoming something that you thought was sure to destroy you. We come to full consciousness when we face our mistakes and failings, confronting our own disparate contradictions. Worthiness, vanity, judgement, fear, pride, and displaced authority can mock us and inhibit our growth. Those who have not allowed themselves to dance with their inner struggles present as superficial and uninteresting, they have little to offer outside of the boundaries set by fear and safety and remain defined by the rules from their first half of life.

When we open our head to illumination, our heart to compassion, and our gut to guidance, then we enter healing. While the mind can be pragmatic, identifying all the rules that will keep us safe, our gut and our heart will always tell the truth. And there we stand in the mystery, not knowing and not needing to know. Our heads must be emptied and opened to pure consciousness, containing neither object nor subject. The white cylindrical crown is symbolic of a direct connection to the divine and our higher selves, a visual symbol of the process of enlightenment.

The artist is given a measure of trust to represent what lies buried deep in the collective human psyche, that which is ineffable, beyond words or explanation. Their work is to communicate these ideas and emotions. They do this by reaching deep into their individual psyche, presenting their journey, sharing their experience, and most profoundly, by posing questions. There is an ethereal and indefinite property to artistic expression that can’t quite be pinned down or succinctly defined, but must be interpreted. It is the viewer’s option to be open to a depth of seeing and self-reflection.

Red Ribbon Series

I guess I can get a tattoo after all. This series is about revisiting an old theme, a journey with unexpected twists and turns, ending with an epic epiphany of self-realization. A little over a year ago, I stood in a gallery and talked about the inspiration for one of my next projects. I had recently ran into an old friend, Claudia, who I hadn’t seen in ages. She asked me if I had painted any red ribbons lately, to which I replied, “huh?” Actually I nodded while saying something neutral with a hint toward the negatory Claudia, I have not. I later remembered I had indeed used a red ribbon in paintings as a symbol of passion, like the burning in the belly made manifest. My memory had me thinking of a time when I was neck deep in duties and chores and the caring and keeping of three little girls. I had this drive and passion to create and express, and a whole lot of frustration, feeling like I just could not get to it, like was sitting on my hands. I remembered the ribbon showing up small, like a side note, or wrapped around a figure, subtly strangling her. I adored my darling girls more than anything, and my desire to make art was burning a hole in my belly and I didn’t know what to do about it. And so now, my response to these memories was to make paintings from the perspective of the older and wiser, new and improved me. With an abundance of ribbon, an unabashed embrace of my god-given creative fire on full display. When all the paintings were finished, and being the record keeper that I am, sat down to write out thoughts on the individual works. I wrote about how I used to be, about frustration, about how different it all is now. Then I thought, I wonder what I wrote about those red ribbon paintings way back when. I went to my old blogspot blog, Tenderness and Toil, and read what I wrote in 2008 about the symbolic red ribbon: “I love the ribbon across the bottom of the painting, winding its way delicately through her fingers. I have found myself adding this element to a lot of paintings. I think it represents her passions, her voice and creative expression. It is grounding, it is truth, it is honest and essential to her happiness.” Another post about a painting with ribbon wrapping around and around a woman’s arms said, “Simply put, she is delicately bound by her passions, and quite enjoying the idea of it.” It turns out, the new and improved me used the symbol of the red ribbon in precisely the same way the old me did sixteen years ago. From this I learned two things: One, I had revised history, the emotion that came with the symbol hadn’t change at all. And two, I could get a tattoo after all. That whole thing about the permanence of a tattoo on an ever changing person would surely lead to regret. I could have gotten a permanent red ribbon tattoo then and it would still be just as meaningful to me now. That’s the wonderful thing about symbols, you can add nuance, look at it from a different angle, but in essence it holds its meaning. I haven’t changed nearly so much as I thought I had. A bit older, a little wiser, a little less fearful and a little more bold, but mostly the same. I still have more ideas than than I think I have time for, I still adore my darling daughters and my boys, I still have a burning desire to make and create and express, and I am still quite enjoying the idea of it.

Sisters in Zion

Sisters in Zion was done for the second Certain Women show held in Salt Lake City in the fall of 2019. It is about celebrating our angelic errand to comfort, support, and be with those in need. Charity is giving service because you love God and you love God’s children, serving when no one is watching and there is no expectation of reward. This is what Zion looks like: all people working in partnership and community, loving and caring for one another.

Explorations of Identity

One Heart Two Minds 2019

September 4, 2019 through May 16, 2020 I will be part of a group show at the Springville Museum of Art. The exhibition is titled SELF: EXPLORATIONS OF IDENTITY. I found, as I pulled together a body of work that represented the theme of this group exhibition, that I had a thread running throughout my work over, at least, the past decade. This thread dealt with issues of duality, a contrast between two concepts of something that either coexist simultaneously, or are actually one whole. Truth often contradicts itself and is multifaceted and complex, making the study of it a lifelong journey. I’ve been making art and searching for identity, exploring my own mind and emotions, to know myself and truth and to be one with it.

Two Sisters 2009

This painting was done a decade ago. In a blog post I wrote: This diptych is about a search for balance between the me-self and the mother-self. One side has a drab apron and bright outfit, the other vice versa. Though these two selves are intertwined, I sometimes feel a need to separate them for clarity in sorting out identity.

Introspection 2019

She values introspection as a means to align the inward and outward aspects of her being. We are born into a culture where so many things are already designated and defined. Finding eternal truth and balance is a lifelong challenge and pursuit. The eyepatch is used as a tool to be a contemplative observer of one’s own mind and emotional process. Emotional intelligence calls for self honesty to align the inner and outer selves. An eye also looks out because interacting within the world is unavoidable and important. And while we look inward and outward simultaneously, we acknowledge that we are not beings of this world, but of a spiritual one, having this physical experience together.

Onward March of Time

Everything passes, the good that you want to hang on to and the bad that you think you can't endure. Time moves like a river, continuously flowing. Onward March of Time is a series of paintings depicting children marching through the seasons. The children demonstrate different attitudes in their march through time: screaming into the future, looking back over shoulders, concentrating on each next step, or pausing for a moment. They don't notice the aspect of time playing a role in their existence, they are here and now. I do. I see the past present and future existing simultaneously. Whether I'm bustling around making things work or sitting back and observing, on and on it goes, with an underlying sense of the continuous movement of time.

Onward March of Time: Winter

This is a milestone year for us. My baby goes to kindergarten, it's the end of an era. My time is freed up and I get to fulfill my craving to be alone for a portion of each day, to work uninterrupted. My oldest drives, she'll have a new sense of independence, bringing her one step closer in her transition to adulthood. And so it goes, from season to season, round and round, in this beautiful improvised composition call life. 

Onward March of Time: Spring

This series, along with a few other pieces will be on display at David Ericson Fine Art in Salt Lake City, 418 South 200 West, August 18 - September 15, 2017. You are welcome to come to the opening reception Friday, August 18, from 6:00-9:00 pm. 

Onward March of Time: Summer

James C. Christensen (September 26, 1942-January 8, 2017)

My dad passed away a couple months ago. I say that without really believing it. But the evidence points to the reality of his parting. He is greatly missed and greatly loved. The following is a transcript of the talk I gave at his funeral.

A Man of Faith January 14, 2017

He says, “Take a big breath, swim straight down about six feet, when you see the opening in the rocks swim into it. In about ten feet you’ll be out the other side. I’ll be there waiting for you.” I do not have my mom’s gift of buoyancy, so the diving down part was no problem. It was the tunnel that had me in a bit of a panic. I took a few big breaths, mustered all the courage I could and went for it. I dove down, found the opening, swam into it, turned around and went back the way I had come thinking I was about to run out of air. He came back through and up to tell me, “Em, you were there!” He had seen me from the other end just before I turned around. “You’ve got to have faith,” he said. “Follow me.” I followed him through without losing sight of his feet. We surfaced in an expansive, dimly lit cave with interesting smells and curious textures. I asked what was above our heads, stalactites maybe? “Nope, they’re bats. And this,” he points to the surface of the water, “is guano.” Always loved an opportunity to share his extensive knowledge of super useful facts.

My dad was a man of faith. He really loved believing. Credendo Vides. He had a theme that ran throughout his life that molded his character and made him the guy that you all love. When he was 19 he was blessed that, “As a result of seeking first the Kingdom of Heaven and its Righteousness, all other things will be added unto thee… You will have a complete and abundant life.” Time and again the advice was pronounced upon his head: put the Lord first, serve faithfully in your church callings and in your family, and you will be blessed in all your worthy endeavors. He lived this principle, and like everything he did, he did it fully. 

He believed in hard work. He would say, “The harder you work, the luckier you get.” He loved the concept of ten thousand hours. He read a lot and studied his scriptures. He studied in depth for his Gospel Doctrine lessons as well as his 11-year old primary lessons, and not only covered the doctrine, but added context, stories, and details that made it magic. 

He lived the Christlike attribute of friendship with everyone he knew. He made you feel accepted for who you are, welcomed you into his inner circle because he thought you were neat.  We’ve read countless tributes and messages expressing your gratitude for his generosity, his encouragement and validation, the way he challenged you, taught you, and loved you. 

Above all, he loved his family. He once declared, “I have a wife whom I have a wonderful relationship with and five kids who are good people and have never been a disgrace to society. I would trade every painting I have ever done or will do for that. Of course if you can do both… hey, it’s heaven.” He put in his ten thousand hours a hundredfold when it came to loving my mom. He was an expert at it. 

His example of unwavering faith, evident in the way he lived his life and seen throughout his art is a beautiful legacy. Like the cave full of bats in Tonga, I am profoundly grateful that my dad’s feet are just ahead of me through the tunnels of life. I think I have only scratched the surface on what my dad will teach me, imagining how his influence might unfold throughout my journey makes my heart ache to bursting with sweet sorrow and joy.

Borrowing Light 

oil on panel 5"x5"

I painted this little piece for the Vision of the Arts scholarship fund. Some of the works auctioned off this spring will go toward a scholarship in my dad's name. There are some really wonderful artists contributing to this fund. 

For Previous Blog Posts

Please visit www.tendernessandtoil.blogspot.com to see blog posts where I left off in 2015 and going all the way back to 2007 when I first started writing about my paintings and creativity.