Out of the Gutter Art

Category: Covid19

  • The Hurrier I Go…

    The Hurrier I Go…

    THE BEHINDER I GET

    How true, how true that Pennsylvania Dutch saying is. I squander my art endeavors, rushing from this deadline to that, frazzled, befuddled and unsatisfied. That may be what drove Van Gogh insane, the constant turmoil to do better. I am making the presumption that perhaps the rapid cycling Bipolar Disorder that I enjoy(!) was somehow effecting him, too. Many artists share this mental illness, I know that The Ryan Licht Sang Bipolar Foundation has held Insights Art Exhibitions, to establish a permanent collection of works by artists who are effected by this disorder. I am proud to be one of the Founding Artists of that collection, and proud to know these beautiful people who have done so much to further research in the field.

    Three years, three works of my art in this collection. It blows my mind, just as my art has been blowing peoples minds since I was a child. How easy I forget, and wallow in my mire. That is part of this disease also. The dark days, when no amount of internal dialogue can push me out of bed, out of the bleak landscape in my head. Do you think Van Gogh, or Matisse, or Dali had such dark times? What about Francis Bacon, Pollock, Warhol ?

    Then why do I feel so alone in my efforts? Yes, I’m sure the worldwide pandemic has a dampening effect, on artists as well as everyone else. Perversely, I also treasure the isolation it affords me. No one can chastise my late hours, or visit to be aghast at the paint on my floor, on my walls, on me. I think I need to get out of the house more, go walk on the beach, visit a park. All things strange and alien nowadays. I know this will pass, I have been in counselling and under proffesionals care for my Bipolar Disorder and PTSD for nearly 30 years, I take my medication every single day, because I have been all the way down into the abyss and made friends with the monsters lurking there. Only to find out that they all wanted me dead. I don’t want to be dead. I can fully understand why I did, because this pain is all encompassing. I feel each cell screaming at me to give it relief.

    Not too happy, guys…

    The only thing I can do is paint myself into a painless reality, a utopia of color, a sweet dream of lavender and silk, a field of gold. When sleep won’t come I will disappear into the garden that flows out of my pen, winding its way into sweet fantasy-lands where no one is mean and there is no such thing as loneliness…

  • Are You Confused?

    Are You Confused?

    • “Dysfunction Junction”, BEST of the BEST at The Backus Museum, 2016
    • Detail:Growth, Susan T. Martin
      Detail:Growth, Susan T. Martin
    • ” Renata’s Path” commission
    • Before Reaching Out, Landscape of St. Lucie River at River Park Marina,Acrylic on Canvas, Susan T. Martin, 2016
    • Keep My Distance!
    • A Flashback!
    A Glance Back at Some Random Works since 2015

    Who Was I Then? Am I Now? Who Will I Become?

    I know that we change, it is a natural thing. I’m not hung up on the aging process… the CREATIVE PROCESS is where my interest lies. My creative life ebbs and flows like the ocean, like my moods, like my illness…

    Must I always speak of my art as it relates to being mentally ill with Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, OCD and /or whatever else plagues this brain of mine? YES, I think I must, because they are so intimately entwined and entangled. The Creativity comes out of the Mood, like a hand from the mist, holding a paintbrush. Flick of the wrist, this way or that- a line drawn here, a dot placed there…Mind expands, engages with the mood, holding the brush…as these wheels turn emotions are enhanced, a certain recognition occurs-as the act of painting plugs into the unconscious. Now I am unburdened, unbridled…set free to run as far and fast as I please. My physical self is left far behind on distant shore, I am just line and color, shape and opacity, flow and ebb, ebb and flow.

    I want to stay suspended in my artistic dream forever, and I try. Forgoing sleep, even food, I immerse myself in the sensuality of creating beauty, even if my beauty is ugly on this day. It is a feeling felt, a thought expressed without words, a slash of yellow, a bobble of green. Fresh, lively-dank, dark. Run the gamut, go the distance…

    I never stop at “dainty”, or find relief at “pretty”….no, I have to press on, and pile on the color, make it scream with indecent pinks and green. Make it cry out in crimson, dance wildly in plum. Bring on the tears in every shadow of the colors of the night.

    I remember these works. I want to make more.

    I like selling little birdhouses, but painting them is hurting my fragile psyche. I wasn’t made to paint smiley faces, was I? Am I selling, or am I selling out…?

  • Free My Mind for You/ Free Your Mind for Me

    As it should be, so it shall be. Inside myself I am whole, where I am not broken. I am lonely in a great big crowd, but never alone when I am here. Do you feel the radio waves frying our brains? Or is that just those pickles I ate.? Let’s go with the pickles, the other is too tough to contemplate.

    “Last Antelope Hunt”, Mixed Media on Board 8″x10″unframed ©Susan T. Martin2020
  • IN the DOGHOUSE

    IN the DOGHOUSE

    • MUNSON, embellished cement sculpture, (Award of Merit at Best of the Best Show at A.E.BACKUS MUSEUM2014)©Susan T Martin(Inquiries Welcome)
    • DOOR STOP or START? recycled Concrete Block©Susan T. Martin 2014(sold)
    • SELF PORTRAIT, (detail) ©Susan T. Martin2019(Inquiries Welcome)
    BLOCKY the ROCK HOUND, work in progress, Concrete Block and Rocks©STM

    Sigh… I’ve been feeling crappy… Really Awful… SICK. It has caused a pause in my production of work. There is this niggling worry, of course, about the big C, CO I mean…VID. I don’t believe this is it, am hoping very strongly that this is not it. The headache is from a sinus infection that seems to always correspond to this changing season. So, I have been fighting, on this front, for about a week.

    • Screen Siren
    • Kiko-Man!
    • Baby Klee
    • Commissioned Portrait
    • Commissioned Portait
    • Don’t touch my hat!
    • Kleopatra of the Nile, my big nose Baby…
    • coooooookkkie!!
    • Aiko Xoxo Izabella, Dear Heart, best Mom ever…
    THE DOG HOUSE GALLERY ©Susan T. Martin

    I rely so much on my little Kleo as a huggable, furry sounding board , having recently experienced the grief of losing her uncle Kiko last month. She became violently ill yesterday, and had to be rushed to the astronomically expensive emergency vet. Five hundred plus dollars and a day later she is stabilized, but I’m not sure I am. The running total on all my credit cards is the highest I’ve ever had, and the gallery I use has been virtual for months. Sales are nil for now, so I feel pressured to create a masterpiece . But I keep falling asleep with my paintbrush for my hand, and abstract ain’t my bag at the moment. Perhaps it should be. I could, in my stupor, lay a blank canvas on the floor by my couch and hold an open paint jar over it while I doze. Perhaps some nice swirly “pour”will result…( This is a JOKE. )

    • FIRE, BLOOD, SKY, WATER, 2nd Version ©Susan T Martin2009
    • The Guardian, acrylic on board,© Susan T. Martin 2016(donated)
    • Grouchy Grouper, Palm Frond and Pine Cone Fine Art©Susan T Martin2014
    • UNDERCURRENTS, ©Susan T. Martin2014
    • RUNNER THE CLOTHES HORSE-recycled Ironing Board, Couture Gown, Palm Fronds , Nylon Pantyhose, Grocery Store Bags, Feather Boas, Curtain Rods, Old Yarn over Chicken Wire Cage, NFS
    • GEORGE,©Susan T Martin (Inquiry Welcome)
    • COUNTRY CLUB STABLES, PINE CHEST (detail) ©Susan T Martin(inquiry Welcome)
    • NEVOA, 3rd Version©Susan T Martin 2011
    • Mural in Progress 2016©SusanTMartin
    • Intergallactic Dragonfly, mixed media sculpture©Susan T. Martin 2016,(sold)
    • THE MUTANT FROG BOX(detail)©SusanTMartin(sold)
    • The MUTANT FROG BOX, recycled vintage tool box ©SusanTMartin(sold)
    • ONE FISH TWO FISH RED FISH BLUE FISH, fine art Print©Susan T Martin(Inquiry Welcome)
    • FISH OF A DIFFERENT FEATHER “Outrageous Jello Mold” ©Susan T. Martin(sold)
    • ROUND UP, Palm Frond Art, ©Susan T. Martin, in progress
    • DANCE of ANDALUSIA,©Susan T. Martin2018
    • Babs the Crab©Susan T. Martin2018(sold)
    • Riley, Palm Frond Assemblage©Susan T. Martin2019(sold)
    • DANCE of the ANDLUSIAN fine art print©Susan T. Martin2018(Inquiries Welcome)
    • NEVOA, 4th Version©Susan T. Martin
    THE ANIMAL HOUSE GALLERY Animal Art from 2010-2020©Susan T. Martin

    The day before my illness I painted a new canvas, and I feel very pleased with it, even though my freehand jug is rather “interesting”. I do have more works in progress , soon to come to fruition as Kleo Pup and I mend. Yay. I mean, “YAY!!”

  • The Door is Wide Open

    The Door is Wide Open

    There are ideas percolating just beneath the surface of my consciousness. They are not fully fleshed out but the juices are flowing and I feel “on the verge” of a breakout work. What is a ‘breakout work’ you ask? Well, I’m asking too, and I believe there is a new direction coming.

    ideas under construction…

    I have been cleaning and gardening and remodeling while the first flickers have steadily growing in size, ready to flame up when the fully formed idea strikes. So I’m just stoking the fire now, setting my mind free to dream in big color…

    my garden calls me , more and more…and I’ve been gathering beloved and beautiful finds and setting them behind the house while this “thing” fleshes out. And it will.

    Oh, yes. It will…

  • Another Voice in the Night

    I was finally motivated to produce my second painting in the “Inside Voice”series. Although I am beset physically with devastating exhaustion, I was able this past week to get some work done. This is very encouraging, I have been fighting the fully immersing fatigue that envelops me each morning.

    .  I dosed myself up with a handful of vitamins earlier, I take them religiously, today I doubled the quantity and added an iron supplement. I must start eating some fresh fruit and veggies… Not Rocky Road. Anyway, I hope you are doing well, gentle reader.

    .  Here is my latest work, “Inside Voice #2 “WIN_20200810_03_57_48_Pro_LI (3)

    This work is a 12″x 12″ acrylic on canvas, and will be available for purchase soon.

  • I Miss What I Imagined I would Miss

    I Miss What I Imagined I would Miss

    this isolation is kind of nice, (she thought), it gives me time to explore my thoughts. But too much pondering of self is no good, (she thought to herself), it can get messy. Really, it is messy, all this thinking in isolation, (she remembered), because it makes me so sleepy, (she yawned), not doing the dishes, nor combing my hair, (she sighs), flummoxed, just flummoxed. I should try to eat something, (she groans), but there’s nothing here I want, (she moans) it all takes too much energy… e-n-e-r-g-y…(she sleeps…)Izzy's 3rd Litter Dec 16,2011 5am 026footsteps recede, door closes. 

    Ahhhh, fresh air… Curtains of pale yellow blow in the morning breeze. We know it’s morning, hear the cardinals breakfasting at the feeder. A nuzzle of cold snout under the hand leads to the opening of an eye: Here is Izzy, the proud mom, ready to show us her new brood.100_0306

    ” Good Girl Za-Za!”, we exclaim, thrilled now to sit up, taking a long draw on the crystal glass of water at our bedside.

    . “Hey, Kiki old-man! You gonna show us the grand babies?”3D0E4E9E-4112-4873-9B74-C8D27E8CE8F0

    .  Swing the legs over the side and stretch, then again before standing…

    “Show me!”.

    .  With that, off they dash as we stumble along behind, into the hall then into the den. We can already hear the tiny grunts and squeals as the teeny pups angrily demand breakfast.

    This slideshow requires JavaScript.

    “Get in there, Izzy!” She’s already in the basket, dutifully cleaning little backsides as they squirm and nuzzle in for a teat. “Good Za!”

    .  She gives us a look of pure bliss, eyes narrow and smiling with a mother’s pride. Not to be outdone, Uncle Kiko, gives a little nose-nudge to the basket as if to say, “I helped too!!”

    .  ” Good Boy Kiko, you’re a trooper, indeed!”

    In the quiet of the morning the scent of brewing coffee tantalizes our senses, and as we look up into the kitchen, there is Dad, in his Dad chair, reading the newspaper as he’s done ten thousand mornings before. He glances up from his cup, mid-sip, to wink and smile, mouthing a silent ‘good-morning’.

    .   We move down the hall towards Mom’s bedroom, still closed as she slumbers on. We can’t resist a peek, gently opening the door and gliding over to stand and caress her sleeping face with our eyes. She is so beautiful in her repose, a wisp of brown hair touseled over her brow. We must have made a sound, she stirs and the room seems to awaken with her, the birds chirp louder, the golden rays fall around her like the petals of an opening rose. She stretches, smiling, her hand reaches out to touch ours…

    Fire in Heaven, c.STMartin2016
    For Our Lost Ones
    Susan Past ©STM2018
    Passed On©STMartin2010
    Burning Sky, c.STMartin2016
    Sailor’s Delight, c. STMartin2016
    Prayer for Magdallia, by Susan T. Martin 9 x 11 Marker on Board $50.00

    It’s just a dream, just a dream. But it will be a reality soon. I miss you, Mom and Dad.

     

     

    .

  • Keep Your Head…and Mine Too

    Keep Your Head…and Mine Too

    This slideshow requires JavaScript.

    You open your eyes in the morning, and briefly it feels like a regular day. A “before” day. We need a name for that now, something catchy, that we don’t mind saying. I do mind saying “before the Pandemic”, “before Covid”, I suppose because I am on sensory overload about the ” situation”. I want to be safe, follow the guidelines, but I also want to talk less about it!!! 

    I am getting used to the “new normal”, a phrase that seems to be a paradox. If it is “normal”,  the very definition suggests it is not “new”. I just want to ‘breathe’, and ‘let go’ of all the must do’s and need to’s, to float above it all mentally. Isn’t that a lovely thought?

    .  Remember the movie “UP”? I hope you’ve seen it, if you can be your inner Child while you watch; you will love it. The whole premise of a bunch of balloons carrying one away into the sky… Did you ever have a scary moment as a kid when your older brother told you to hold onto something or you’d float away? I kept imagining that I wouldn’t be able to hang on when I was so high the fall to earth would smush me, and that I’d be afraid to let go when I was still low enough to survive. What a lack of confidence in oneself, even in an imaginary setting!!!

    .  Who was the cartoon character who said, “What a Maroon!” every time the main character did something ‘dumb’? I’m thinking it was Barney on the “Flintstones”. It was said so often that it became this background sound, and up until today I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say about Fred. Now that I sounded out the word to type it, I am thinking he was calling Fred a Moron.

    I’m a wee bit disgusted about not being paid my winnings yet for recent painting, nor have I received payment for the sale of it. The Show and sale ended May 30th, and here it is July whatever…Poo. The organizers must know we are all starving.

    . Anyhoo… I still have time to draw a line or make a dot. So I’ll write words again afterwards. Words. Just not the “P” word, or the “C” word, or “19”.  I’m going to share some of my digital art with you tonight, hope you crack a smile or frown a frown, just have a thought about the wonderful gift of creativity! Goodnight all.

    This slideshow requires JavaScript.

    This slideshow requires JavaScript.