ARTIST - CRAFTER - TRAVELLER - TALKER |
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The work may be purchased through the site via PayPal or with credit cards. Each piece of artwork will include details, a price, and my email. Simply send me an email and I will send an invoice via email with a PayPal or credit card link.Voila! Delivery in Hamilton, Dundas, and Burlington, Ontario is free on works over $100 or any larger pieces. Free delivery may apply in this area on some others as well. Please consult. Kirsten |
USED TO BE THAT... Many years ago I painted mostly in bright colours in a style I call 'worditure', as opposed to 'portaraiture'. I painted words onto mirrors and objects, typically bowls. I used mirrors to sumbolize the intent to reflect upon the words written, and the bowls symbolized nourishment the words were intended to provide. Yes, well...pretty 'new-agey' but that's where I was at, and apparently so were a lot of other people because I did a very good business in that line of art for some time. And then I rented a real honest-to-god downtown art gallery in the big city and figured I'd better start showing 'serious' art. You can laugh. I am. The art was loved and hated. Years of that consistent response and I'm fairly well used to it now. It's better than being dull and ignored. Looking over the last 20 yrs of my art I can say that my work was brighter when my life was brighter. I done been hurt some. Seen Some ugliness I'd rather not know about. Buried a daughter. That last one is an endless darkness in the heart. And endless sorrow. I want to not have to be 'serious' all the time with my art. Not think about 'my image', 'my reputation', hence the crafts that will be up in the gallery soon. But I'd like to go back to the colour and the words I used to enjoy. Perhaps on canvas now instead of mirrors and bowls, but with the same energy and lightness and what-the-hell-ness. Maybe just for a while. Just for the smile of it. Kirsten
*************** WELCOME TO MONKEY HILL This is my most creative time of the year. I want more from myself than I can give in a day, a week, a month, hoping to explore and do all I envision, and if I'm not careful I'll end up drowning in my own creative juices. Most of my smaller works and sewing/craft pieces have either been sold or found temporary homes in stores by the end of the year and I am faced with replenishing my own gallery of wares for sale. Assuredly, there is no assembly line creative arts or wares to be found on Monkey Hill. It all takes time and heart. Time that I've been spending trying to figure out how to use this *!@#$%^& web design program. Enough! So if you'll excuse the simplicity of the site, forgive the temporary forgoing of bells and whistles, I'll just get on with the artwork, the blogging, the living thing in general. Welcome to Monkey Hill Kirsten *********
Once upon an I-didn't-see-it-coming time I lived in a very large house with my own spacious studio and two - count them, two! - separate storage rooms to myself for my art materials. My workspace was never crowded or cluttered and I put everything away at the end of each work time ready for a fresh start. It was a way of working that was good for concentration, clarity, and creativity. It made my job a pleasure and lead me to work many, many hours at a time. Uh huh. So now I'm not there. The house I live in now doesn't even have any freakin' closets y'all. Happily (depending on how you look at it) I live alone, and so 'storage' is wherever I put 'whatever' down when I feel like it. No one complains. Eventually, however, like...um...nowabouts the piles and stacks and clusters-of-such-stuffs aren't a form of freedom anymore. They take on the freaky sad-creepiness of an old-woman-artist living alone. I want more for my life. I like nice homes. I used to have one. So yeah...lovely studio days gone I have to hang a thin flannel blanket on the wall so I can paint, but who doesn't? I forgot that I used to be spoiled. (oops) All my work materials crammed onto one table? Well now...welcome to the world of the artist who works at home! Home as in real home without 1,000sq ft studio. It's funny. Thinking back now I remember that when I started my career as an artist I was so poor I didn't even have a table. Any table at all. I worked on my knees on the hardwood floor of my one bedroom apartment. The only thing the place had going for it was wall-to-wall windows. My knees, back, and neck used to ache horribly when I worked, but I kept going because I loved what I was doing, because I wanted to improve, to find out what I could really do if I kept practicing, reaching. I used brushes and paint given to me by other artists who no longer wanted them, leftovers, stuff considered worn out or almost 'gone bad', just dregs. I worked on paper and found pieces of wood and found objects, anything that looked like the paint might adhere to properly regardless of whether the object was flat or not. I'm trying to figure out if this messiness and crowdedness is about not having enough space, enough storage, or enough appreciation for what has brought me so much solace and pleasure in my life. I've paid a lot of dues over the last 20yrs, and been graced with a lot in response, and I think I may be taking my art skills and career for granted a bit. Today, perhaps, sorting and storing my materials properly is the show of respect I need to offer the Muse who has never left me when others have gone the way of receding tides. Kirsten ******************
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