This Ink is Bugging Me

Journal Entry October 22nd, 2014:  I’m not expressing myself well today.  This ink is bugging me – it’s too strong and all wrong for my mood.  I remember I purchased it to write up a condolence card.

This insightful poem is from a series I wrote called:  “Eat the Whole Bag”.  It was written well before K.A.’s end came, in the sad form of Divorce, and a Forced Sale.

“The Katherine Ann House”

Her house was as jumbled as a junkyard,

"The sun's leaving the day with a hard, cold kiss."
‘K.A.’                                                                             The sun’s leaving the day with a hard, cold kiss.

as warm as a tea cozy,

as old as her Grandmother’s thimble,

as worn as a Sterling locket,

as winning as a war,

as engaging as a lock…

and as fatal as an affair.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

The Short Life of the Eternal

FullSizeRender-1

I am in a relationship with PAINT… and how it makes me feel!  I’m very sensitive to color and emotionally driven to my choices.

This painting is 24″x36″, “Untitled”, Acrylic on canvas.  I think of it as, a classical floral arrangement, in a de-constucted modernist pose.  I build structure by inventing and originating forms as containers for color.

I love suggestion and unmeasured standards, as opposed to precision, in harnessing gravity and significance to the act of painting.  I choose to disrupt the established and bring imperfect beauty to the essence of the unseen.

To challenge the flat-line of monotony, and the blank stare of the ordinary, means being open to, and willing to, paint over areas I am convinced look ‘right’.  I must relinquish the ownership of my actions to make way for new strokes that change the painting from one aspect to another, and another… this ongoing internal dialogue keeps the changes flying until I reach a summit:  I’m looking for harmonious discord.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

Ten for 2011 POW!!!!!!

This Year I’m Blasting Off in New Directions!

  1. I’m the current in the wire.
  2. I’m firing up my spirit.
  3. I’m turning action into a living philosophy.
  4. I’m working up a new balancing act.
  5. I’m liberating my time.
  6. I’m vanquishing my fears.
  7. I’m counting on the unpredictable.
  8. I’m moving to a Midas touch.
  9. I’m cherishing what I have.
  10. I’m breathing in love.

Thank you all for following my Blog throughout 2010… 2011 is going to be GRRREAT!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Peace By Piece and Amor Fati

"Psyche's Pieces"

Susanna Ruebsaat, my Art Therapy teacher, reads a paragraph from “Wisdom of the Psyche,” by Ginette Paris who was one of her teachers at Pacifica Graduate Institute in Santa Barbara, California.  Paris wrote this after recovering from a very serious head injury.

“Love of One’s Fate: Amor Fati; a love of one’s story.

I’m a participant in my own drama!  A love of what is.

Even my messes are my own.  I’m able to feel.”

A love of what is and a love of what is becoming.

Know the form in which one’s destiny unfolds.

This form of psychological creativity eventually leads to what the ancients call: Amor fati.

Dionysian attitude:  A desire to know the specific form in which one’s destiny unfolds.

Loving Your Life: “How could it be other-wise.” (N.R. Rigets)

Susanna refers to my clay sculptures and mentions how my first was so rough and my second was so smooth.  Yes, there is an amazing contrast (and contract) between the 2 female forms.

I respond with, “Life is rough and as I practice life it becomes smoother.”

Friedrich Nietzsche

Acceptance of what is and love of what it is becoming.

"Before I Lost my Head by Dionysian Forces"

A link to Dionysian and Apollonian dichotomies and philosophies on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollonian_and_Dionysian

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

The Eagle and the Ego

Today was of the special variety that I experience randomly and want to add more of to my life.  It’s a day when nothing can ruffle me; I sail along with no fears, no worries, no upsets. I didn’t have any concrete plans made in advance so I didn’t have to get snarly when life moved impulsively into my morning.  Instead of writing this post at 2 p.m., as I intended, I got together with a friend who rang just to see if we could meet for coffee in my neighborhood.  Painting the day with flexibility keeps me happy.  There is no need to routinely cross off the must-do’s on the list in any special order. What doesn’t get finished today can be added to tomorrow’s list.  Was I blissful because nothing went sideways throughout the day? Or was it my fresh attitude and faith in life itself that brought unequivocal and dynamic energy into my realm, in perfect synch with others, rewarding me with the wonderful feelings I attracted.

I was careful to watch my thoughts today and keep them supported upward.  Being negative never allows me to fulfill my dreams or handle risk taking.  Rather than resisting intrusions I make the decision to embrace them and redesign the day.  The recapture of energy by not forcing my will on on the clock is abundant.  If, however, I keep repeating I’m too busy and can’t fit anything in, guess what happens:  exactly what I’ve told myself and the world returns what I’ve told it to.  I give the Universe a chance to understand I am communicating to receive positive vibes and outcomes.  It sounds corny yet I was amazed that what I had read about does work perfectly well.

I started off out the door of our building to see my friend Sonny and as I approached the intersection I looked up into the sky to identify a bird flying in slow circles.  Too big to be a crow, I realized it was a baby eagle.   The circles he was making were small, baby circles. Even birds show a respect for the young as they left him alone to practice learning his flight patterns. Adult eagles get verbally blasted and dive-bombed by crows and seagulls in our area but this little guy was left in peace.

I was early to meet Sonny and I remembered a conversation yesterday with one of my very close friends.  They mentioned taking things slow because they did not want to miss a step or mis-step; or worse, make a mis-take as they proceeded along a new path.  I was surprised.  I’m a risk taker so I am impulsive; quite the opposite of this person.  But like the baby eagle, if I think I can fly I will try it.  If I lose a few feathers or make other birds laugh I don’t mind.  I might get a little red in the face but I’m living and alive!!

What if baby birds wouldn’t try to fly because they were afraid of falling or failing.  What if they would only fly if they could form perfect circles.  It’s not in our nature to be perfect; it’s something that is learned and practiced once we leave childhood and compete and work in an ego-based outside world.  A world outside of ourselves where we may have to compensate for shaky self-esteem.  It’s not healthy to thwart ourselves when we can blast off and get to the core of our quest.

I told my friend that holding back didn’t make sense; that it’s ego talking.  Ego that thinks everyone is watching us, waiting for us to make a faux pas, and then ridicule us.  Yet everyone fails their way to success.  Even rocks, as steady as they are, will take a fall at some point in their stony life.  The  last thing we need is to stay in one spot and never move because we’ve let our ego fill our minds with nonsense.

At Art School no one tells you how to do things.  There will be a short talk, and if you’re lucky a demonstration, but no one can do it for you because they don’t have your mind, body , and spirit.  Only you can make the finished work by experimenting.  Marcus Bowcott, my painting teacher says, “You’ve gotta’ break a few eggs to make an omelet!” Go ahead and scramble into something new. Don’t listen to your head, listen to your heart. The heart holds only love:  no fear. Never pull back when the momentum takes you on a roll to a passion for what you were meant to do.

I just tore a week off the calendar and in a sweep of the arm the week was gone.  It woke me up with the thought that every moment must be loved:  have, think, and do only what you love! Be the little eagle who loves to fly.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Reality Tale

Please adopt whatever you need from this journal entry I made late in 2007 and use it as a mantra, a meditation, a chant, a prompt, encouragement, or an affirmation.

"Beauty Radiates from Within"

The tale dances me through the day and elevates me as I sleep pouring new ideas, thoughts, dreams, and images into my creative work.

People stop me to talk, they compliment me, they’re curious about my work.

The public treats me as a celebrity.  They ask my professional opinion.

My fans want to own my work, engage my consulting services; they send me gifts and thank-you’s.

I am able to write fluently.

I design new styles, forms, and images with spirit and vitality.

I paint and draw with passion and emotional strength.

I can think well because I am well and very healthy.

My gratitude is deep and I evolve into a more authentic figure of myself.

I communicate clearly, accept inner challenges, and love deeply.

I swish through difficulties, problem solve without conflict, and increase my patience.

I send out showers of goodness, goodwill and charm.

I’m charitable, compassionate, reliable, open, and joyful.

I embrace the universe as it is, respect it, and understand that my thoughts, deeds, and actions either support or destroy parts of it.  I choose to be supportive.

I trust my vibes and live a six-sensory practice using my intuition as my guide.

I live in the present and use my consciousness wisely and widely.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Age-Old Dolls


"Age-Old Dolls"

You just want to be

a little girl,

Find your voice

before you

become

hard around the mouth.

Go out in

the world,

just to see

and feel

crimped tops

on the grasses!

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Become an Artist and Create More than Thursday’s Meatloaf

I have read of women with a family of 5 children and a business to run, a husband and meals to cook, going to University to get their Master’s or Doctorate degree and still doing charity work, socializing, and looking immaculate; that’s where I got the idea I could go to University to get a BFA.

I hesitate to write this.  Yet it saddens me to frequently hear from women I meet, who would love to become artists, how they stop themselves with notions of so-called sensible reasons.

This was:  My Journal entry August 6th, 2001.  It came from a hand-held cheap, Mead, Five-Star in a class by itself, spiral bound,Neat Sheet Perforated Pages, with 200 ruled sheets, and 400 ruled pages.

Runnng a family is at best fun and rewarding but a woman needs to be as free as her husband and children to be an artist, even if it only means designing her life to fulfill her dreams. Dreams that don’t cost her her family, but allow her to feel proud of accomplishing her vision.

When we are in our teens we have a million ideas – do these ideas get pushed back – do they become expanding waistlines, huge backs and hips?

If you had a short sentence period of life left to live because you are dis-eased would you make certain that you cleaned the house, picked up the cleaning, paid the bills, washed the car, and did lots of laundry between doing all the other self-imposed obligations you didn’t want to do when you felt forced to say yes.

Taken from the Series 'Cold Cereal'

Each day is so precious even when you are not compromised in your health.

My personal discovery is that nothing in the house changed while I went to University full-time for two years.   (Notation:  two years for a diploma worked into being five for a degree).  The dust still sat on the top of everything.  The house still looked the same at the end of a day even when I hadn’t spent ten hours wandering about in it.

The same little imperfections were on the walls.  The messy areas, where there was no other place to use the messy items or to store them, still struck me in an uncomfortable way; even though I had not walked past them a million times a day, as in the past, wondering what to do with them.

But while the house lived its life without me, I created hundreds of projects, got a diploma in Studio Art and following that a BFA degree, showed my work in galleries, was published on the cover of two literary journals, wrote, painted, entered juried competitions, and put my work on the Internet.  And I didn’t know I had it in me when I was taking the garbage out regularly for something to clean up.

Art School was one of the dirtiest and messiest places I had ever worked in.  I learned we were focused on the project not on our surroundings  We had great relationships; we learned what we had never known about ourselves and each other.  The mystery of life came upon us and we had feelings; strong feelings!

We became sleep deprived and were told to do things we had never dreamed of.  We were let loose!!  I called the courtyard full of industrial junk our play pen:  our toybox. Sometimes we felt isolated when we worked and sometimes we worked in groups.

There were many times I ate pizza, celery and peanut butter, plain bread, cereal, or junk near the end of a term, but it did far less harm than resenting the doing of something I no longer wanted to.

There was one time when I had to wear the same clothes for three days – that’s about as much inconvenience as I remember. (Notation:  This is when I remember feeling like a REAL artist having read up on Louise Nevelson, one of my favorites, who would roll on and off a small bed in her studio wearing the same clothes for days while she worked on a wall-size sculpture.)

I never knew a house could run itself.  My family was amazed and thrilled with the difference in me.  My secret self shone.  And to my amazement they all knew how to look after themselves.  It wasn’t a slice; I have never worked harder in my life; had only 5 hours sleep a night, worked 7 days a week, and pushed myself to the, and beyond the, limits of my imagination.

Every new term Dad would go into the hospital for a couple of days for cancer treatment. Usually he announced it without any warning and always when a printmaking project was due. Our business dropped when Bailey, our soft-coated wheaten terrier of 14+ years, got old suddenly and collapsed.  For seven months I was sick at heart with the thought of soon losing her. Bills piled up and at one point I measured the pile:  it was over 10 inches high. We had a robbery in our home and lost $25,000 in property that we were very fond of; some was sentimental.

What a blessing to have something so rich to focus on as my art:  my heart’s desire.  It was a ten year dream that still continues.  Our wheaten had a seven month old age and died a natural death, my Dad died in the hospital on the 3rd day after an operation a year before my graduation, and a very close friend died soon after.  I couldn’t prevent the deaths and I couldn’t control other lives either.

What I have learned to do is concentrate my attention on my gifts and talents and make something from these instead of living through other people’s lives:  ie. family, friends, people in newspapers, on TV, celebrities in magazines, etc.

How does your own life look, could you write a story about turning down a different road now and becoming what you dreamed you would when you were still in high school?

Start here!  This space is for you…………..

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Uncapturable!!!Something That Will Not Stay Still

"Goodbye Without Leaving" from the Series: 'Cold Cereal' by Nicole Rigets

Where do I find the words to

describe

a flutter,

an instant,

something that

will not stay still,

something fleeting,

precious,

more valuable

than any gem,

ephemeral,

stardust,

mist,

momentous

visions,

uncapturable;

love so strong

it hurts when

it embraces you;

only for today,

impermanent

of course.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Rose Colored and White Insanity

In my second year at Grad School I was taking Media History.  We were watching films to learn about the conceptual and constructed components that go into the making of them.

Unlike many arts, films exude prophecy and memory.  I would sit in the dark theatre and write in my heavy black sketchbook with the refrigerator white pages laid open.  The pen scratched across the toothy paper but I could only hear the steadily increasing sine wave of piercing electronic sound; which accounts for the words below that are typed in capitals as I routinely thought of getting up to leave. The sound increased in pitch and volume slowly over a 45 minute period.  I wrote and fought myself.  Every few minutes someone left and I still don’t know how I sat through it.  The sound was marginally muffled by thoughts of my grade point average and whether Fiona, our teacher, would mark me absent if I left before it ended. I recently read the sine wave contributes largely to the uncanniness of the film.

Here’s what was written by feeling my way along on the pages of my book as I wanted to emit the same sound as the sine wave:

Viewing “Wavelength” by Michael Snow

Extraordinarily loud traffic

(noice) noise.

empty apartment with bookcase.

strawberry fields playing and

the room turned pale red… for

a few minutes or a minute.

Traffic noise begins but the

window has been shut by 2

women that came in before &

have now left. Yellow, red —

orange, yellow-green trucks

make a loud noise  s.

sunset in the window &

it comes into the room.

psychedelic colors paint

the interior white

light strikes the room.

Flash, lightening ? or

car lights shining in like

an angry dragon, no traffic

now and a foghorn playing

a long note & vibration —

color & vibration . white &

neutrals & negative exposure

pink cellophane windows

rose colored & white insanity

green gel interior . chalky

white dark with outdoors

showing through windows.

Daylight flashing & zoomed

in on room’s interior.

WHEN   WILL   THE   NOISE   STOP

The voice of the noise is

becoming hoarse . iciy blue

The noise will dye soon.

I meant die

The room is disappearing.

green shot popcorn. &

grainy film now perfectly

exposed with person on floor

What’s wrong with this picture?

klear whitewashed flashed

noise is annoying

a-noising  dark red like

a burst body vessel.  STOP IT

Tune out Tune off. TUNES

not much room left now.

a white blob passes.

and we just sit here &

take it!!

yellow chair yellow

light_ ‘ . _ Double ghost image

institution   .    office of

A d mission to a clinic for

nervous & mental breakdowns

In one ear & out the other .

Fading but not the sound.

A black phone appears &

I can call for help who’s

going to listen, who will

listen ??  LET ME OUT !?!

Clarity again in the image.

outdoor signs are visible

hardware store.  In the left

ear now.  nowpictures on

the wall. & woman dials phone.

she reports a dead person on

the floor in her room.  She

becomes ghostly.

MY SINUSES ARE ACHING FROM

THE SOUND.  White wall now.

pictures of 2 white forms of people

standing multiplied then became

only 2 again . now multiple &

floaty . Layers of the same

B & W picture (one over the other)

not quite aligned.  mis-matched

out of synch . spaces between

your ears . Down that tunnel

that people who have a near-

death experience go . WORSE THAN

A TOOTHACHE when will this

noise be pulled or filled??  Conden-

sation on the glass window pane

and there is a squiggle drawn

in it.  TURN UP THE PITCH BITCH

This sound is searing my

eyeballs & scraping my nerve

endings as fine lines

show up now vertically

on the screen (on the scream in my skull) . S/B 2

fine lines.  sirens now on

top of this  B & W photo of

water & rippley waves

becomes the picture & a

new noise is added like

a trolley bus starting away

from a curb . and a siren

at a distance ._ these two

combined  .  The texture of

the waves is full screen

but they do not move at all

SILENCE AT LAST.  They

diffuse into mist.  The END!

at last.  no maybe not.  Yes.

Some bold color blocks at

the fine.

Before watching a 10-minute version of “Wavelength” at the link below, scroll down on You Tube and get a load of the five or six comments.  I hope you will watch it and go on to read the following link for a worthy explanation of what Canadian Filmmaker Michael Snow’s award-winning film is about. The “Aha!” moment follows Wikipedia’s article and discussions.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzPwuP6AmCk

Wikipedia on “Wavelength”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wavelength_(1967_film)

Bio of Fiona Bowie, my Media History teacher at Emily Carr University on Granville Island, Vancouver, B.C.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiona_Bowie

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets