Art Priestess
Wednesday, July 3, 2024
Thursday, January 27, 2022
Amazing the way the mother speaks.
Margaret,
I believe the best way to market your art, is to be genuine, and put your heart out there. There is always the risk that someone might see the real you and try to steal it. Though, both of us know that is the risk an artist takes.
I watched this woman’s video and knew you would understand it.
The same way that you understand the slow motion cascade of a leaf as it is held by God’s invisible hand.
It is the swan, the grace of the moment. The way the wind moans, or sings. The way mother-nature reveals herself in the most magical moments.
I found this video created by Jonna Jinton, initially she was showing her cabin in the woods. It was summer, hot and she was in shorts. She had bought a bike to get around. This morning I open my you tube page and am surprised by the snow. She is a cinema videographer. And she blew me away with her magic.
When your father and I lived in Rhode Island ages ago I was captivated by the snow. The way the full moon sparkles and reflects off the snow is a special sort of love for mother nature. It is breath taking. I will never forget the night, my first full moon under her trance as she reflected her light upon the snow. All the silver blue white moonlight sighing her beauty for me.
This woman, Jonna, she is also a sighingly aware artist. She understands the sounds mother nature makes, she understands the crackling of the fire. `Everything has energy. The trees cracks and pop as she speaks about them. The ice responds to her energy of love. The whole world awaits our “awareness”.
When Jonna was little the forest sang its song and she ran to her grandmom. It sounded like someone shooting a gun. You might recall the moment we removed the neon light from the house in Slidell, a huge clap of thunder erupted. We all looked at one another with wide eyes. And you remarked: “ I guess God wants us to know, he knows we are moving your art.”
Being aware is what makes an artist a true artist. The same soul that watches the full moon following us on a night car trip is the same soul that pushes herself to know every medium of art out there: You.
You are so busy making your art, you have no time to market your art. I get it. I will try and take some of the task. To help you, put you out there. Like I am doing for Jenna now. I am sharing what inspired me to write.
I want you to have 4 million followers. It is time for you to fly, like the swan with its grace and all the lessons that come with believing in yourself and your amazing art.
I have the aurora upon my bucket list. I am not giving up on that beach house. Anyone want to give me a beach house? (Grinning) I hear you mother nature, I see the birds swirling and swooping, `I hear the wind singing, I hear the fire crackling and popping as it warms my soul.
There are all sorts of folks waiting to be inspired. When you watch Jonna’s video- you will be blown away by her art. Margaret, let me make a composition for you. Start sharing your video’s. Place your sculptures upon the snow. Take a LED flashlight out and video your art in that frozen tundra.
You know I love the bones of you.
Here is the link- if you want to share it
Monday, December 28, 2020
The Irish Sea and Me.
Original photo by Anita Boyle. Played with Photoshop to create composition. |
It has been a wanting wish for ages. I have slowly been building up for this inevitable dream come true. It was just a matter of time. I have been teaching swimming 8 hours a day in a very cold pool then working at another pool were we teach during the winter months. I suppose I was training the whole time, preparing myself for the full body wet suit experience.
The day of the event would be the longest dark day of the year, the winter solstice. It was fitting, as 2020 was the darkest year I have lived. I imagine for you too— dear reader, that this has been your darkest year as well. It was time to take the ultimate bath.
I wanted to do this alone. I didn’t want a group of folks hollering and cheering beside me. I wanted a rebirth that was quiet. I wanted to face my sixty year old self alone. The good, or the bad I wanted to rely on me, I wasn’t going to be a victim or a persecutor. I didn’t need rescuing. This wasn’t a drama.
This was me having a test of courage and a personal baptism.
I have been preaching to folks my whole life to soar. Spread your wings, rise above the cloud layer. When in reality I should have been preaching for you to swim. As swimming is as close to soaring as you will ever get. There, in the water, in that non-gravitational place of fluid is your sky. You soar.
I stood beside the car, preparing for the swim. I had donned my booties with their thick rubber soles. I had tucked the booties up under the long leg of the wet suit. I pulled the wet suit up and pushed my hands through the neoprene. Then I slid on my San Francisco YMCA swim cap. It says:”I swam around the world.”
I smiled as I placed it upon my head. I worked at the best YMCA in the world. Courtney was the BEST aquatics director on the planet. Oh how I loved those folks! I had the swim cap of love upon my head. I had the angels of adventure warm in my heart. It was time to swim in the Irish Sea.
The storms of winter had brought sea weed up over the concrete ramp. It was inches thick and slippery to walk upon. Anita and I held on to one another as we walked toward the sand. The wind was calm, the sea was easy as she rolled her gentle waves upon the shore.
No one was on the beach, summer was out of reach. It was grey like my wet suit. Dull. I gave Anita a hug and she wished me well. She got out her camera and I started walking toward the water.
My rubber booties protected my feet from the cold, the first hint of icy water was at mid calf height. The water was icy and hot at the same time. The strangest feeling of fire and ice. The liquid seeped into the wet suit up my spine and I smiled at the extreme feelings of being alive.
Fire and ice. Turning my body so the wave would split easier upon my body. Fire and ice. Walking into the water. Chest level now. Fire and ice. Breathe. Now it is deep enough to swim. Breast stroke. Fingertips sliding into the water.
OH MY GOD.
My hands didn’t have protection. Oh Dear Lord. It was like dipping my hands into dry ice.
You've seen the science experiment where a live rose is dipped into the liquid nitrogen- that flash freezing was happening to my fingers. I instantly decided I needed to swim back to shore. I expected to raise my hands from the ocean and see nubs. No fingers, no blood -just frozen stubs.
As I turned to swim back to shore, I reached down with one foot. Certainly I could reach the bottom. I wasn’t THAT far out. “Dear Lord I am much further out than I thought.”
As that point the voice that always talks to me, the all knowing me, the smart and intelligent me said; “Oooooooooh you do want to live.”
I replied back: “Well of course I do.”
The highest me wouldn’t let this idea drop;”Have the tides changes? Have you been pulled out very very far?”
“Where ever I am. I must kick and pull my way back to shore with purpose.”
The highest me asked; “Shall I swim diagonal to the shore?”
“Perhaps.” So I did, the swimming became easier as I swam toward my Love standing on the shore. She couldn’t see my worried face. She didn’t know my fingers were numb. So I kicked and swam hard, the booties were bulky. But, I was so glad for them.
Finally, I reached down with a foot and could touch the sand. Both of me said: “Dear Lord, thank you for this strong body.”
I loved the waves that pushed me forward. They felt like angels. I was grinning from ear-to-ear as I stepped back to dry sand.
Whew.
I have never felt more glad to be alive. Okay. I said it. There is nothing more gratifying that being glad to be here on this earth.
Somethings I have learned from this adventure.
1) The survivalist voice shows up, maybe it is the guardian angel we all have. That we don’t know we have until our heart beat quickens in near panic mode.
2) My heart is strong. If there were ever a moment when my heart had an opportunity to kick the old bucket, it was when my hands felt like they were in liquid nitrogen.
and
last. I WANT to be alive. I don’t want to just exist. I want to live fully! I want adventure in my life.
Friday, December 18, 2020
Blessed Blossoming
Hello Sweet Luvs.
(pulling you into my arms for a 60 second swaying hug) If you know me, if you are reading this blog, then you probably know I haven't been around lately. THIS was the year of challenges. The flower of me was cut to the ground.
(sighing) I won't go into the details about the losses. If you know me, then you know what has happened in my life.
I flew to Ireland to be re-planted. To take the cutting of my rose-self and replant it. The rain is sweet and soft upon my face and shoulders. I have gotten used to the freezing cold water and look forward to swimming in these waters when quarantine is over.
Finding what you are good at, what you want to do every day of your life, is a lovely adventure. Now that I am here, in Ireland, taking photographs, playing with them in photoshop and illustrator I realize the center point. What we spend our time doing, is what we love.
What
we
spend
time doing,
is what
we
LOVE.
So, think on that for a moment. Let it materialize, walk around what you do in your minds eye. See the activity. Do you take photos, do you write, do you sit on instagrams all day or scroll in facebook all day?
It is okay. No judgement.
Are you making money off of any of this?
(chuckling) Admittedly, I am not making money. That is the trick then, the bridge to a glorious life.
Orrrrr is it? Do you want to be doing your hobby all the time? Then would it become druggery?
Well. I have no answers. I suppose I am just stirring the stick in the mud. I do like watching the swirls of mud flow in the crystal clear water. And I do love watching the river clear itself. Pure magical delight.
I do a few things that I make money from. I play with mud and make mud pies with children. I also illustrate and make money off of those creative play things.
I am blossoming now.
Playing, creating, becoming again.
The future looks crystal clear.
Take this season to rejuvenate and rest.
Let the negative go.
Let the hole be healed.
It takes time.
KNOW you are loved.
We are in this together.
The you tube link is from the movie "Fiddler on the roof" I do not claim anything to do with it. I just want to share its "holiness". May the Lord bless you and keep you.
Friday, July 31, 2020
Who taught you?
Art created by Judith Parsons Art 2020 |
School is starting soon, this is a challenging time, the teachers are asking- is my job worth my life? Parents are asking is my sanity worth my children's life? Who taught you, who is teaching you, all these questions are worth asking.
Much love to you as you look toward your futures path.
(Judith teaches art at Cedarwood Elementary, Mandeville, LA.)
Monday, June 8, 2020
Woods and rivers- beyond time.
Sand dollar Love. Original art by Judith Parsons Art. 2020. |
Thursday, May 28, 2020
Don't discard me.
Cut away pieces wanting to be made. By Judith Parsons Art 2020 |
Arch/Boat/Glass sculpture. By Judith Parsons Art 2020 |