I’ve heard this statement enough times to have to make an information sheet. Its not offensive because its an opportunity to educate clients on what happens behind the scenes of HillArtistry. Basically, if I’m charging, that means the event hosts have not compensated me  for my services.

The short answer is “no” and if you’re curious, here is why-

First, I value my

    · clients and the supplies that is used on them.
            -I don’t use cheap face paint that you get at the Dollar Plus store (no                 offense Dollar Plus store). Don’t EVER use acrylic paint on your kids,             either! Its bad!
            -I personally make much of what goes onto your child’s face, especially             near their eyes and lips, so I know exactly what is in it because I don’t                 trust cheaply made paints with unpronouncable ingredients.
             -The pre-made colors that I buy are made in America, where I know we             have strict FDA guidelines to follow. China has been known for                     using LEAD, associated with decreased IQ scores and                             neurological damage in children.
    · supplies, the really COOL ones.
           -I use WICKED glitters and color changing pigments that actually                     change color as the light hits it or they move. No one else uses this,                     that I have seen.
          -Our brushes don’t fall apart and leave annoying hairs that get stuck in the             paint, children’s eyes, etc.
    · expertise- and this is why we have long lines.
          -I’m a professional with high standards and won’t do a heart, ladybug, or           some other silly thing that takes 2 minutes to do (unless that is what the               child wants-  because its about them :) You won’t see stencils, either :)
          -Many of the images I use are my own designs.
          -I rock as an artist, like the “Metallica” of artists and face painters.                   Sometimes you can’t tell because energetic kiddos twitch… but the more           still your little one is, the better these things come out. Sometimes I do               have a bad day and I give discounts according to my quality if I really jack           up something or can’t finish. It’s a matter of pride to be truly fair to the           people I appreciate-- YOU.

Secondly, I value my time to

    · upload your children’s pictures for you to print out in cropped, high                 resolution jpegs.
    · learn the safest ingredients and how to mix them to get the effects I (and         your child) want. Ordering, mixing, putting into containers, it all takes time.
    · thoroughly clean the brushes used on your child alone. (If I use one brush on     two kids, they are either siblings or I got confused and accidently grabbed it.)     Afterwards, the brushes are washed with hypoallergenic Dawn and then             de-stained and disinfected with alcohol.

Most importantly because I value

    · my family. All of this is time that could be spent with my son and husband.
    · my job. And it does what jobs do, like pay bills, buy gas, buy shoes and             medicine. I am a working mother and because we have bills and normal                 expenses, work has to get done. Don’t worry, I have a BFA with a minor in         psychology so this isn’t the only job I do. But I also wouldn’t come to your job     and expect you to do something for me for free. Just because it’s a blast and a     joy to paint children doesn’t mean that work isn’t getting done. This just             happens to be all you get to see, the most fun aspects of my job!

So thank you for having the courage to ask and the respect to appreciate what I do.

This is why I do what I do and what was going on outside while I was cleaning brushes:

In a word, YES. It took a long time, much fearful insights (not fearless. Courage comes from being afraid and doing what you know is right. Fearless is just... stupid. Fearless people don't have the sense to be scared, ha ha. BTDT in the teen years).

Now, life is good. We still have money troubles, an argument here and there, but the internal conflict and resolution are much easier because the agitated anxiety taught me to be open no matter how armored and spikey others are, to respect my value system, to stay away from people that don't "get" me and head towards healthy people who do. I also was gifted with the foresight to do what is right according to my conscience and for the greater good (can't even walk past litter w/out picking it up), so hopefully my art reflects this wisdom gleaned.

My art of the time is meant to be scary, funny and freaky. Thats how the situation was. My art now? Somewhat the same, but in a much more beautiful and spiritual context. God uses all sorts of experiences for his art supplies :)

So anyway, after watching Brene Brown, the painting's meaning finally became comprehensible. It is about how the outside world lives in a space of ego and armor and I didn't. Never have. I tried and it felt completely un-natural, so I shut up and shut down.

Because of this, the feeling of belonging never came to me (until many years later when I met fellow artists/sensitives). Until then, "Fitting in" was something completely alien, and never so evident as when I was in the throws of my breakdown. The scream came from the feeling of not being able to escape it, this emotional knowledge of the disparity between what is inside people and what they show. There is a real person in there somewhere beyond the armor and spikes. Although people's internal workings are none of my business, open-ness is a gift not many people give. Sad, because they get so much more out of the interaction.

The rabbit is the Velveteen Rabbit. Like the Velveteen rabbit, you become real once you have been loved to the point of pain (intimacy brings pain). Real relationships bring arguments and misunderstandings... the rabbit has a scar on its heart and also its wrist. Its in the shape of Edvard's original person, with the same acidic colors (agitated depression heightens adhd or any of your senses, everything feels like an assault). Besides that, check out the dudes walking up the pier. You can't get a read on them, they don't want to look you in the eye. The one without the spikes actually smiled.

In the background are the tell-tale trees painted by every MS gulf coast artist that shows. All the trees look the same, so since this is about not fitting in, I put them in there. Most of the artists of the region also painted shrimpboats and magnolias at some point, so I have a shrimpboat in the background (that didn't exist- due to Katrina) and after feeling shunned at several art shows there (and not from this painting, either, lol) I painted USS FU as the boat's name. 

The struggle of my entire life had revolved around this ONE topic. When no one lives in the space you do or is willing to take off their psychic clothes either, the hunger for intimacy of being real with another person like yourself creates a starvation, a famine of the soul. At the time, I didn't know why or where it was coming from, but the depression had stripped me of any psychic skin and exposed the real guts of the matter. God was part of this, but God had stepped into the background... I suppose to allow me to be taken apart to be put back together again. How many other artists cannibalize their creations to make something new and improved?

For more information about psychic upheavals and re-integrations, read here about "THE POSITIVE DISINTEGRATION THEORY"

This is about both #DaringGreatly & #vulnerability. This topic is the basis of courage (lifetime and creative) through vulnerability and it will take a while, so I may jump some abstract steps. This is the thing about anyone that makes other people comfortable, connected to others and themselves- and simultaneously its the thing that scares the hell out of others. It is a given in our culture that vulnerability is considered weakness (and women aren't any different than men here). Just through day to day life, its evident that many people see this as a risky venture.

Yet, this is the thing that makes art- paintings, movies, music- all breathtaking.

Case in point, I was honest at a public talk that I hated to give talks because I have a speaking phobia. One lady told me that I "didn't have to tall that". She was ashamed! It was so evident from the look on her face that she also had a speaking phobia and the thought of admitting she had a vulnerability triggered her own fear. I hugged her and told her it was ok. The more I thought, the more I realized many of my strong mentors are like this. Another anecdote are my friends who may laugh at bawdy jokes- even tell a few, love funny, risque cards, but to have one on their personal pages given by a friend? I thought I'd give someone a heart attack. IMO, I think that is sad. They were so afraid that they would be unfriended by something I (a stranger to the others) did, that they scrambled in fever pitch to get it off at 2 am. So afraid of judgement.... who would judge? Church people? Family? In-laws? How sad to not be yourself no matter where you are or who you're with. Take it from someone who has had the best and worst of friends and family: if they can't handle a curse word, they won't be there for you in hard times. If a word freaks them out, they're not worth the worry.

Not so for me, I'm incapable of living differently at this point. The thought made me want to upload my own art therapy paintings that are not on the mainstream Art Pages and discuss them. But, I have a new painting in mind. I've got a few under my belt already, in Art and People...pt. 2, but this one is going to be different. 

The painting is an internal portrait, the happiest place I've ever been- not bubbly-rose-colored-glasses kind of happy or even one that doesn't come through hard work and slide-backs, but a true contentment and satisfaction that living one's true life path brings. Your own honest-to-God value system. This piece is going to have funny, bawdy, loving, disturbing stuff shaped into a beautiful and spiritual scene. Thats been my life so far. If people don't like it, they can take it up with God :)

This security is the absence of subjective, yet universal, anxiety that comes from being open, real and transparent. No one has anything to find out and I'm not ashamed of anything. It sounds like an oxymoron when I say that I still do have shame. As in all of us, its a constant work in progress and I'll write about it. I'm not alone.

We all have it. Its that fear that there is something about us that will stop other people from loving, accepting or connecting with us. This is the thing that keeps us from writing the depths of our hearts, losing ourselves by belting out the song to the point of spit flying out of our squinched up faces, giving that talk that makes our hair stand on our arms (and everyone else's) and painting our truths (beautiful or ugly) to the ultimate of our potential that cause everyone to gasp.

This is what Robert Frost meant by "No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader." Of course! If you're scared to "go there", how can you take anyone else there? How can we, as creative people in no matter what we do, offer any kind of connection with deeper truths of humanity when we are afraid of opening up and seeing ourselves and allowing others to see us for how we truly are?

Back to Dr. Brene Brown (can be seen here), she articulates this part about human nature the best I've heard. Her book, Daring Greatly is just about that. I was taken aback when I saw her on Oprah's Super Soul Sunday because this is the thing that ended me up in therapy with a category 5 nervous breakdown. See Art and People pt 2.

If its not there yet, I'm working on it.... (as of 3/28/13)

How do we learn to fear being vulnerable? When do we learn to hide our feelings? One of the first times I remember something like that happening, I was playing with little neighbor kids. They were a little snooty, I was 5 or 6. I think I had mosquito bites and bruises all over my legs (being a tomboy) and they picked on me about it. Unrelenting in the torment, I went home crying.

That didn't change me, it didn't bother me that much: what stuck with me the longest was when I wrote them a note telling them how it effected me, my Mom telling me to stop crying and to tear up the note. It was the look on her face and the message "don't give them the satisfaction" and then something deeper... "how can she be so weak?"

My Mom is a strong woman who had a hard life. She cries for no one while they are alive and the only times I've seen her cry was for a pet, her brother and my Dad when they died. She has the hardest time crying (when she does) and her whole body shakes as if in a panic attack. So this is evident in her fear response towards anyone else's vulnerability. Cry if you fall down, sure, but the rest? Suck it up.

I'm not alone and neither are parents in these messages, given or received. So, that is how life went for me for 30 years. I never could understand why someone just couldn't be honest with their perspectives and perceptions and so I was completely conscious of keeping "it" all in. My art was the only release for the real me underneath so much so that I forgot how to talk about it. I had a realization something about me felt different from how everyone else appeared... and I wanted something unintelligible. Life felt like it had been inhabited by hard-shelled hostile entities, but I didn't know why. I felt de-skinned, ultra sensitive and exposed. 

Fast forward. Not only had I been dealing with invisible constraints and saw them in other people, I had also been dealing with a mild to moderate depression since graduation in '03, in '05 Katrina hit. The depression until then had taken the form of anxiety and agitated depression also known as mixed state or mixed episode (a very dangerous kind that infiltrates your thoughts, behaviors but with an anger and anxiety that makes one very scared of one's own capabilities. Most depressed people would kill themselves if they had the motivation, with mixed episodes, you have the energy, PLUS rage.)

Anyway, after Katrina, the need struck everyone everywhere and I couldn't help. People died, families were without anything, children didn't have homes, food, toys, anything. (I cannot stand suffering and have to do something.) At the time, I had JUST gotten into therapy. My father had just had a quintuple bypass (yes, quintuple. 5 arteries!!) and had lost everything in his home that had gotten 4-5 feet of storm surge.

The stress was too much to bear. One day, my Dad walked up to me in the kitchen while I was cooking chili for my whole family and instantly a tape played in front of my eyes in my mind of a scene of him with that expression, and I, when I was 3 years old. Front to back in complete clarity of me trying to talk him out of killing himself and trying to talk him into living. The "movie" included the sights, smells, sounds and emotions of that time. I was three, helpless, had no idea that the world existed outside my front door and that my dad's life--- and mine- were about to crumble.

That, my dear, is a flashback. And not the post-acid induced kind (which I never took, btw) or the fluffy, fuzzy flashbacks of romance movies. Its also symptom of PTSD.

For the first time since my teen years, I had been put in the position to care for my father. The first time was an unhealthy, parasitic version of exploitation in which I cared for his emotional health when I was only 3... the second was a natural progression of his own age and mortality, but the similarity was there enough to trigger the flashback.

I caught my breath, said nothing and finished dinner. It wasn't easy, but i did it. Throughout life in other areas, things had gotten progressively worse. People don't know that depression filters EVERYTHING that comes through your senses into your thoughts and heart and then filters everything that comes out of you into the world. It is like a black filter.

Something as simple as walking down a dock can be turned into an Alfred Hitchcock scene. As I was walking down a dock (we were looking at hurricane devastation), we encountered some fishermen on what was left of the dock. (what the hell???)

Instantly, I had the painting of Edvard Munch's The Scream flash before my eyes-- and I understood what he felt like. The people looked hostile (probably dealing with depression on their own, too, from Katrina) and had no friendly expression whatsoever. I got home and painted "Velveteen Scream". It was the pictoral expression of what vulnerability, and the lack of, feels like. Disconnection. Click the picture for more information on the painting and its symbolism.    

Do YOU compare yourself to others- or, even just as dangerously, yourself at your best? I used to. Wake up. You were never intended to stay who you were, thats why human spirits grow long past the point when they grow old.

"Put it in the light so he doesn't have to fear it". That is my LIFE and what this blog is about. That is my art. And I heard these words coming out of Dr. Robin's own mouth on Oprah's Super Soul Sunday, the flood of appreciation opened that God was giving me the validation that I am on the right path. This is why I chose to be open, honest and naked to anyone who will listen. I made the conscious decision that I hide nothing from myself, Stephen, friends or clients. It doesn't mean I tell things that are hurtful for no purpose (Your butt looks like two fighting balloons in those pants), but when it comes to myself, my experiences and my capabilities, I shine the light on it.

My life had been marred by so many things I hid out of shame. BUT you can't be hurt by something that you put in the light. You don't have to fear it, you don't have to fear being found out, you don't have to waste time, energy and worry about hiding it. This can be something as profound as being molested as a child, accidentally murdering someone while driving drunk, or as Dr. Robin and Oprah are talking about, Lionel Richie not being able to hit the same high notes as he used to. 

We were never intended to keep recreating what we were or what we already have. Thats not creation, thats copying. We are intended to create something NEW with our art, our lives and our spirits.

We as growing spirits must come to the realization that we create our lives as we move through this spiritual space-- and the spiritual space changes, so we must change and recreate accordingly. The mud-house doesn't hold tight in a rainy marshland, so rebuild your house and keep growing. The question is then, how?

By being open and honest about yourself. What you find out will influence your life and ultimately your art. Nothing that influences one doesn't influence the other, they are intertwined.

What is really going on now? What is my life made of now, what does it consist of, what do I need to feel completed NOW, what are my most basic needs and the needs of those that I love? KNOW yourself, who you are, your limitations and perceived inadequacies. Know your highs and lows and keep them in the light. When those questions can be answered clearly and truthfully, then the answers will direct you to a path that is yours in this time and space alone.

In the previous blog entry, I just poured out worries. One that had been sitting on my heart pretty heavily was about Devyn's social health, basically, because we don't get out much. We both work at home, Stephen selling things on Ebay while I work on HillArtistry. Not so exciting for a new little life who wants to enjoy the world and have fun.

Anyway, today, four of the most adorable little kids from the ages of 6 to 10 came over to wash the truck to raise money to see their friend who had moved to Idaho :) Cute enough as THAT is, after a while, they came back. After knocking on the door several times (I thought Stephen and Devyn would answer, I was getting out of the shower, LOL), I finally answered and I'm glad I did. There all four were, wanting to know if Devyn could come outside and play in the backyard. I, of course, said "Sure! If you can find them. I think they went on a hike." They did eventually find them and they played and had fun :) That is the very first time that anyone came over and asked if he could come out and play. To see my little boy happy is totally priceless.

Just to let you know, God, that you look out for us even when we forget to ask for help and fall back on our own worries. You've got it covered and thank You for that. I love you and love knowing You love us, too.

This blog won't be edited cuz its late and I'm tired. If there's something that just doens't "read right", so be it. Its late. Life is good and I keep it positive and laugh and make jokes, but there is another side, too. This makes me think, "why do atheists believe that Christians have to be good and nice all the time?" A post someone put on my fb page about Christians not being nice kinda makes me wonder is it supposed to be so unifaceted? Where does that fundamental flaw in thinking come from?

Anyway, I digress... no matter who you are, real life happens. Right now, Stephen is still looking for jobs, still looking for ways to make any money. We have officially fallen on hard times, obviously. I'm looking for work, too, but instead of chasing every rabbit into a hole, I'm on the hunt and not wavering from HillArtistry.

I've gotten several jobs so far, one is shown above, for Heather Kline. The other was a Amanda's henna baby shower. It was just beautiful to do, really a beautiful experience to share and vicariously enjoy the creation and arrival of new life.

While I haven't been "raking in" the dough, there will be a time when I will be so busy I can't see straight. It just takes time. I won't be distracted from it and will be ready when it happens. And I love doing what I do.

Either way, its tough. When you're a Mom, you are at work 24/7- you never get the time to just put your shoulders down and relax. You always know something is going to be interrupted at any moment and it always is :) I'm not complaining, thats just how it is and how its supposed to be. I don't get time to do the things that will make us as successful as fast as either of us want because he has to be on the computer so much and Bun needs attention and love. That is never a conflict, my child simply comes first. Its hard to update a computer website with your baby holding onto your leg, crying and wanting to be held. The balance between the two worlds isn't something new to anyone with children.

I can't just whip out the paint and start painting, either. Kids eat that stuff. I'm working on two projects for Candie Tallquist, an oil painting on one of the old wooden toys she has and a "redo" on the other one. I messed up and can't start on part 2 of the piece because I'll sit my hand right into another piece of the painting. I already did it once--- I put drying medium into the paint, but drying medium doesn't work appropriately on hard substrates. Live and learn and relearn the things we forget, huh?

Point is, I LOVE DOING IT, its just that Stephen isn't available during the day, I only get nap times and after bed to work. Feels like there isn't enough time in the day.

Had to update the henna supply page, too. Thats something that can make profit without too much work because I have everything made right now.

I'll get to it tomorrow, I hope. I had a dream about Mom dying last night, my subconscious telling me that I know our time is limited and its gonna hurt like hell when it happens.