Magic Murals of Flowers in Tove Jansson’s “Moominpappa at Sea” — Sea Library

I spent hours and hours with my flowers this summer. I had planted in the soil so many seeds and bulbs early in spring. We watched a garden of our own growing and blooming in pots on our sunlit terrace. Marigolds, nasturtiums, anemones, pelargoniums, a carpet of wildflowers, purple, red, and white swords of gladiolus. […]

Magic Murals of Flowers in Tove Jansson’s “Moominpappa at Sea” — Sea Library

Beautiful blog by my best friend with main question:

What would you paint on the walls of a lighthouse?

The book I gave as present to Sea Library and flower is from my childhood that I forgotten. But that marked story about Moominmamma came right in time….

Home

This was one of my first painting after my huge break up period with brushes and blank canvas. I wanted to put it all together – day and night, light and darkness, Latvian garden in blooming and palm tree who belongs in some exotic garden at far away country.

I didn’t want to tell about house much just rise imagination about what could be inside it.

Home was always a complicated symbol in my dreams. In real life I live in my parents home till 18 –  at one place, at one garden with the same people. Very safe. But in dreams t was opposite. I was somewhere else struggle to find my way back home. These was serial kind of dreams with very different scenarios but with same message – I struggle to get home. 

After I started my studies in Riga, my life got unpredictable. I moved from one place to other, have lost in relationships and my only safety place was work and parents home. I counted once that in last 20 years I moved to 13 different places and now I living at rent apartment with number 13 on it. Coincident? I started painting right here home, were I fought I never make to get in.

When I finished this painting I give this to my best friend as present. She loved it, I couldn’t believe that, I couldn’t even look at that little house. I said “NO” to it and try to put aside. It was like an old dream what never came true, never ended happy for me. 

After my partner proposal me (and I said magical word with agreement in all what will came after that..can’t wait…) deep down in my self I go trough panic and fear attacks. What if I will wake up again until get in this coziness light of family and home as symbol of safety and love?

I saw a new dream last night…. It was a festival at deep night. We were part of it – me and my boyfriend. It all happens at banks of the dark blue sea. I holding hands with my loved one and rise my ayes on the sea and saw in the middle of that, my painted house with yellow roof and light inside it. I quietly started to go there. Sea parted aside and gave me dry road to it. I go inside and saw two people there – husband and wife – both artists, musician and painter. They where so assured , so self – reliant and peaceful. I felt like I don’t belong where and went outside and get very angry that my partner didn’t fallow me. He stayed there and seemed very happy about that. It took me some time after wake up to realize that couple in home were very similar with us.

I woke up thinking about how our own fears and struggles and how it pull us away from happiness. How we “know” what we deserve but never dear to take it, even it is front of us. How we said “no” to good things, because of bad experience, and how hard is to say “yes”. In dream I went out of my dream home… In life I said “yes” and learn how leading power transform in letting go and letting self to be. 

If it’s not magic, call it art.

Sunday morning

I fought about sketches, other professional artist do this, I know… But sketches is like a plan, strategy what you must to realize. I rather choose to let process of creation led me. I watched short videos about aborigines women’s textile painting process, they never do sketches. They dream and create new world from their dreams.

I put my canvas on sunlight and look how lights and shadows moves on it. Nature is the greatest artist. It have it all.

I wake up early Sunday morning, sneak in my studio and painting the same canvas with no sketches. I listen to “The V̲e̲lvet Unde̲rgro̲und & N̲ico Full Album 1967” and almost felt honey in my veins. This is how feels inner pease – I fought… Let that sense become my sketch.

To day smart internet cookies offer me news about Elder Eunice Napanangka Jack – National Indigenous fashion award winer for the Textile Design Award.

Congratulation the winner!!! I took it as good sign on way to my dreams.

Wawiriya Burton — world of dreams

Wawiriya Burton is an Australian Aboriginal artist known for her acrylic paintings. Burton belongs to the Pitjantjatjara, an Aboringinal people of the Central Australian desert near Uluru.She was born in outback central Australia sometime during the 1920s, and grew up living a traditional, nomadic way of life. She originally specialized in baskets and punu (wood […]

Sunday Evening Art Gallery — Wawiriya Burton — Humoring the Goddess

Then I was 12 years old I carefully read all Australian magazines wich my mothers aunt send me from Australia. I dream about this far away land, wich here in Latvia seems imaginary. My ayes catch up people in black and white photos, their faces looks different then I used to… So authentic, wild and peaceful at the same time. Like they can hear through skin and know everything, like they could become animals and birds if they only want to. In those days in my 12 there was no google or Wikipedia in my attic room, only books and journals. I already read everything I found about African tribes. People in those photos caring all the worlds pride and pain. Australian aborigines was different for me. They wasn’t even connected with world as I know it. I ask my relatives to send me more about them, but they never do. While I painting “Nature prints” I suddenly remember all of this. I looking for right keys in my life, I left my job (again and I hope this time I will be wiser) and begin new way to my dreams. again… again.. and again… Maybe now I will be more strong to say “no” at others good advaises and sey “yes” to my self. I wonder that people who know how to become a birds and how to create lake in the middle of desert don’t have such a problems…

The full meaning of Wawiriyas Burtons artworks can only be understood or deciphered by people who have been initiated. – I took this colours and love of being like a compass and hope for initiation.

Thank you “humoring the goddess” for introduction.

More about Leim

Art is the place where everyone can be free.

The main sense of paintings is colour.

I grow up between wild nature and urban city and and soon found out that you need a very peaceful  state of heart to deal with both. The mind can blow you up very quickly, which heart never does.

I studied art at a university. When I started to work at a national museum of art, I left my brushes and canvas behind because it felt like a sin to paint and to work with the greatest painters in Latvia at the same time. If I can’t be as good as they are, I said to myself, I shouldn’t touch my brush. 

After 15 years of working in the museum field and a few bad divorces later, I fell in love again. It just happened and has slowly led me back to who I am. The struggle between fears of losing myself again and the desire to open up and find trust in happiness is very similar to what I experienced when I started to work in museums and art galleries. Back then when I chose to be smart and tamed, I always said to others that art is the place where anyone can be free, but I somehow never let it be so for myself. I became an art viewer and a guide for others. This freedom that art holds is about self-esteem, self-love and courage to speak and finally to be who you actually are. 

I remember clearly a few times in my childhood when I was in real danger. When I was a toddler, I loved to play with sleepy cows. I sneaked under their necks and gently heckled their soft, brown, fluffy skin. It was like magic for me, as the water’s skin of a river that you don’t know so well. I was the only child in my family, there were no other kids around. Animals kept me company and were my friends. I spoke to them in my mind.

One time I put my arms around a cow’s neck and looked into her sad brown eyes. I gently brushed her skin, she looked back at me quietly but something was different. I had a strange feeling in my stomach that something was wrong. I took a rope to which it was tied and pulled up a bit. When the cow got up on her feet I immediately recognized that she was a bull. To approach a bull was a big taboo for children, my parents were very strict about that. You never knew what was on his mind, a bull is unpredictable, strong and aggressive. Only my dad could feed and lead him to pasture and back in the barn. When my grandma was young she was famous for how good she could be with mad bulls in leading them from barn to shielding. She was a tiny woman with a very tender heart, but bulls somehow listened to her. When I stood next to this huge animal I didn’t know that yet. I turned to stone because I knew I had done something wrong, fear rushed through me like lightning. The bull behaved as a mirror, his nostrils blew air nervously and his eyes were wide open. I was three or four years old but I already knew deep inside me that if you want to deal with animals, no fears are allowed. So I put my hand again on bull’s neck as if nothing had happened and left him quietly and peacefully. I didn’t know all legends about my grandma yet, but later when I was nine, she put me in a horse-drawn carriage and put a horse leash into my hands. “Lead it as if you are stronger than a horse,” she said, “but do it with tenderness and peace. The horse has to trust you when it will be obedient.” Many years later these words came back to me when I had to present projects to sponsors or directors and defend my ideas to a very skeptical audience. Somehow it always helped me to get through the toughest parts of my life. No doubts, no fears. The peaceful state of heart will lead you better when you know. 

The same feeling I get in the painting process. Art and nature to me are the same because both hold the same instincts of creativity and death. You can’t do good art if you aren’t brave enough or haven’t freed yourself from mind’s programs and cages. Of course, there are many professionals doing magnificent conceptual art, carefully calculated and based on personal philosophy. But for me, I have to free myself from any calculating and lose myself in creativity like in giving birth, to let everything else go, to be relaxed and go with the flow, let it be dirty and not so painful. For me making art is like falling in love again after a broken heart. So now I let myself touch canvas gently with small brushes but I dream that one day I will paint huge paintings with abstract objects on them and lead these compositions with love as wild quiet animals.

My paintings are made to become a part of someone’s life. Someone’s very special…