tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67010606693128044232024-03-08T00:37:31.814-07:00Peggy Guichu Art TalkPeggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-10021799115395285462010-07-22T18:02:00.000-07:002010-07-22T18:02:50.195-07:00My Trip To ChinaA year ago to the month I went to visit my son in Perth, Australia. I came home feeling wonderful. I said at the time that the Perth trip changed me. I was filled with love and good feelings. I could live there happily. I fit in. It felt comfortable and I survived the travel. Then I found out about a trip to China. A dream come true. I’ve always wanted to visit China. Two big trips in one year and I’ve never gone anywhere outside of Canada and Mexico in my life. Two stamps on my passport. I was very, very excited and happy about it. Now I’m back from China. I haven’t been able to write about my experiences because I‘m normally a positive person. But China did change me and I have had a hard time putting it into words. <br />
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I have to begin by saying that Jessy, who is my business manager in Beijing, China, has more energy than is humanly possible. Seriously! I’m not exaggerating at all. I had a real hard time keeping up with her. She couldn’t weigh more than 90 pounds and she is in constant motion. Okay, I’m 59 years old and she‘s 43. I have a curvature of the spine and the left side of my body is two inches shorter than my right. I’m telling you this so you will understand that walking two blocks does tend to throw my back out. Jessy’s apartment was five floors up. No elevators. That’s 70 steps up and 70 steps down. I know this because I counted them on my last trip down. I made this trek at least two or three times a day while in Beijing. Yes, Jane Fonda, I did FEEL THE BURN.<br />
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From day one I was in physical pain. That was a given, and I accepted it and did my best to put it in the background because I was excited. The purpose of the trip was to have an art show with a well-known Chinese sculpture. Jessy had set the entire thing up for me. She had done extensive promotions for the show. It was going to be a big deal. I had high hopes that I would sell some art. I’m a big girl and I can take a hit, but I wasn’t prepared at all for a knock down.<br />
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The gallery was up a flight of stairs, which as you will hear from this writing isn’t unusual at all for China. Everywhere you go, you will be climbing up or down stairs. Lots of people came to the opening night. I was interviewed by radio stations, I got my picture in lots of magazines, but nothing sold. Because I couldn’t talk to any of the potential buyers, I felt frustrated. I found out that they didn’t even have a price sheet available and no one connected to the gallery was making an effort to sell anything. It was their opinion that people come back if they are really interested. There were three potential buyers at the opening, each asked for a price sheet and all three of them went away empty handed, but left their name and phone number, and none were contacted after the show. I was told that if they were interested they would come back or call. I have owned a gallery before and I know the art of selling, and there was no effort made at all. The show lasted four weeks, so I still had time to get suicidal, but I was unhappy about not selling. I came a long way to sell paintings. I had normal expectations. Most art work sells on the opening night. But I held out hope because I had four more weeks.<br />
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I thought I had four weeks. What I didn’t know was that the designer in the floor up from the gallery would be doing a major reconstruction of her studio. When I went back the next day to the gallery, there were workers blocking the entrance and dust so thick coming from the construction that I couldn’t breathe. The lights were off in the gallery and the door was closed. And it stayed that way through the entire four weeks that my show was running.<br />
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The second issue I had was my biggest. I had no voice. Jessy was fluent in English and Chinese, but I found out that she really didn’t like translating, so I wasn’t able to speak to anyone. And that included the gallery owner or the potential buyers. The gallery owner decided after I got there that he only wanted to hang abstract paintings for the show. Prior to going, he had sent a list of the paintings that he wanted. I took the paintings off their stretcher bars, I packed them and hauled all 27 of these paintings across continents to bring to his gallery. I had an issue with this, but I was not allowed to speak to the owner. When I asked Jessy to tell him of my issue about the paintings, she refused. I was being disrespectful. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because no one could get into the gallery to see the paintings after the opening night.<br />
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Setting aside the art part of my trip and bypassing the issue of toilets and the non-stop search for a sit-down toilet, Jessy took me to see the Great Wall, The Forbidden City and Tian‘an Men Square. I saw the Olympic village with the Bird Nest and the Water Cube. We traveled to Shanghai and saw the Shanghai Museum. We went to HuaQing and saw the terracotta Warriors. I took a tour of the gardens in Hangzhou and shopped for pearls in Suzhou. We went to the West Lake and saw the evening water show, which was beautiful. I saw thousands of Chinese paintings in museums and galleries. I am and will be forever grateful to her for everything she helped me see. It was great.<br />
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I walked a million miles on my Birkenstocks until I couldn’t stand the pain and wet feet and bought some tennis shoes which gave me blisters on every square inch of my feet and ankles. This was definitely my fault. I should have brought broken-in shoes prior to the trip. I didn’t know I was going to be walking as much as I did. It rained the entire time I was there, so having my feet covered was a better idea. But everywhere we went, we either took a taxi, which can only be described as putting your life in an insane person’s hands, or took the subway which was a very good way to travel through the city, but always three floors down and up or we walked and walked and walked.<br />
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The truth is that China scared the ---- out of me. From the moment I walked off of the plane until I put my feet down in San Francisco, I was engulfed in a negative energy that tormented me. I had ugly nightmares every night that woke me up in cold sweat -- terrible horror movie-type dreams that I have had maybe five or six times in my entire life.<br />
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I felt that I needed protection always. I saw a small girl get run over and killed and no one with me even gave this incident a second glance. The image is still with me. There were earthquakes where hundreds of people died, and trapped mine workers that died, but I didn’t hear or see any sign of concern. When I asked Jessy why people weren’t concerned about this, her response was that it had nothing to do with them. I don’t want to make a blanket statement that there is no spirituality in China, but I didn’t run into any while I was there. All the temples were tourist traps with booths filled with junk to buy. I thought it was ironic to see so many Buddha statues when even showing a painting or picture of the Dali Lama got you a one-way ticket out of China. The Temple of Heaven was the only temple where it felt slightly serene. It was beautiful with lots of trees, grass and pathways to walk on. But you couldn’t go off the path to just sit under a tree. And nowhere was there a place to be quiet.<br />
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Being cold was the usual while I was there, because in China they turn the heat off in all the buildings except hotels and probably government buildings on March 15th. It snowed March 16th so they kept the heat on for one more week. I got there March 30th and it was a balmy 40° to 50° inside Jessy’s apartment at all times.<br />
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When you hear someone talk about having a bad experience in traffic situations, you might think of Mexico and taxi drivers. Well, Beijing and Shanghai have it all over on Mexico. I had to close my eyes and pray (or my favorite when in a scary traffic situation, screaming crash!!!) that I would make it home every time I sat in a taxi or bus. The streets were jammed with buses, taxis, cars, motorcycles, motorcycles with carts on the back, bicycles, bicycles with carts in tow, people, women with baby carriages, and all fighting to get in front, going as fast as they possibly could. What was even more dangerous was walking next to or having to cross these streets. And all these vehicles were making noise. Horns never stopped honking. Always so much noise everywhere.<br />
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That’s the next topic: Noise. It was a deafening, serious noise: Advertisement video screens talking to you, people screaming, babies crying, horns honking, buses with screeching brakes and back firing, whistles blowing, bicycle bells ringing, people yelling at each other in cars. I could go on, but I think you get the idea. All that noise blocked my brain and drowned out thought. To those living in a city of 17 million people, I suppose this is normal. To me it was exhausting. It never occurred to me until I saw a bird four weeks into my trip that it was the first bird I had seen or heard the entire time I had been in Beijing.<br />
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The birds were smart enough to exit the city, but not the people. Millions of them and most of them were trying to sell me something. Usually a copy of a famous brand name. I took a stand at that. I wouldn’t buy anything that was a patent infringement. I found it very offensive. I know that Nike makes zillions of dollars, so who cares, right? Well I found out that I do. I bought my Nikes from a Nike store that sold real Nikes, and I paid real money for them and felt good about it. You have to stand up for something once in a while. That was my protest to China for ripping off companies and using their brand names. Wait a minute, I have to step off of my soap box and I’m still a little stiff.<br />
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The people were friendly, even though they all had personal space issues. I should say I have personal space issues and mine are wider than those I was being bumped or pushed by. I would have had a more enjoyable time if I had been able to communicate with some of these people. But because I couldn’t speak to anyone, I felt very detached and out of place. I wanted to hear what they had to say about their world and mine. But instead I spent hours (which is also normal) sitting with Chinese speaking people while they all talked and ate and I pretended to enjoy myself. I wasn’t good at that at all. I’m a Gemini. I get bored easily. Especially when I can’t join in on the conversation. Food, now here’s a fun subject.<br />
I went there with complete forethought of accepting different food. The Chinese are serious about their food. Their menus are 50 to 100 page bond books filled with pictures of dishes to choose from. They eat the same food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I’m a westerner. We eat meat, potatoes, vegetables, fruits, cereal, fried eggs, and drink water with ice. I knew Chinese food was going to be different, but I’m sorry, when they serve chicken and the head and feet are still attached, it tends to put me on an immediate diet. I love fish. What I don’t like is eating fish that are looking up at me with their black eyes staring back in contempt for killing them so I could eat them. Popping a shrimp with fins and eyes still attached in my mouth just isn’t going to happen. Fish heads are a favorite in China. No, thank you! And to my own laughing heart, so is pumpkin. That was what I didn’t like eating in Perth. I can eat pumpkin pie all day long and have, but I’m not a big boiled, fried or anything pumpkin eater. They did have wonderful vegetables and mushrooms. Many I had never seen before, and some I would never want to see again. It was unusual to have a dish without some kind of nut. Usually peanuts. When they have snails, we are talking garden variety here. And they suck them out of the shell. It’s a very disturbing sound, but then I don‘t like escargot either. In general, I would have to say that eating Chinese food is much healthier for everyone than what we eat here in the states. After all, there are no fat people in China. Seriously, not one! I settled on cut-up chicken or shrimp, minus the eyes, with vegetables and rice, and that was what I ate for five weeks. I had no problem with chop sticks at all. I did get used to drinking hot water with my meals, but the corn drink just wouldn’t go down. And, of course, I loved the tea and brought a lot back with me. It’s the best.<br />
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I felt a suppression around me that wouldn’t go away. Restaurant workers and hotel staff are forced to march every morning. I was told this is to show control, and it did show me that. I felt that the noise was another way of control. The one child rule allowed me to experience a lot of very spoiled, noisy and drunk young men in the restaurants. The older people looked at me with frowns and the small children stared in wonder. Jessy’s friends were very nice, and I would have loved to have shared a conversation with just one of them, but that didn’t happen. But they were all very hard working, real and sincere people. Most were dressed just like you and I dress. They were working toward what they hoped would be a better future. But what I came home with was the realization that there is no way for anyone who has been raised under such control to understand for one moment what it truly feels like to be free. They want it, they dress like it, they dream of it, but they have no concept of what IT really is.<br />
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As I write this and feel that my liberties are being simultaneously stripped from me daily, I wonder if they aren’t better off. Knowing what is being taken away from you because you used to have it may be worse than wanting something you can never truly conceive of or understand.<br />
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I have changed. I am just fine living in my small suburban house where I can sit in my backyard and listen to all the birds and watch my trees sway in the breeze, surrounded by multi-cultured people who have varied pigmentations and speak different languages. I love all of them because they are my people. We live in the United States of America. As flawed as it is, I can say from my heart that it’s the best place for me to be. It’s my comfort zone.<br />
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What I brought back from China was an education of a lifetime and a love of my home and life. I have great respect for their long history and antiquities. I find the people beautiful to look at. The children are beyond adorable with their little butts exposed in the clothes they wear with the backsides left opened. I didn’t see any disposable diapers, but then I wasn’t looking. But I was disturbed by the presence of the military everywhere. Police officers at every corner. The marching of employees and the inbred caution they display out of fear. The rules of the families, though they keep each other close, are terribly outdated and another form of control, and the ability to find nothing wrong with stealing or getting the advantage from another in business is something we all need to know. But that’s another post.<br />
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In conclusion, I can now say I’ve been out of the country twice. Five weeks was too long for me to be gone from my home and Steven. I missed him something awful. If I did go back, I would not go alone and I would take old broken-in shoes to wear. When my feet touched the airport floor in San Francisco, I swore I would never leave again and couldn’t wait to go outside and breath in my air. That feeling hasn’t left me yet.<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-50066315546931625702010-05-24T11:48:00.003-07:002010-05-25T08:39:54.151-07:00Turning 59<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/S_rKZ_xFwbI/AAAAAAAAAGI/_Ph6URlqjBQ/s1600/river72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/S_rKZ_xFwbI/AAAAAAAAAGI/_Ph6URlqjBQ/s320/river72.jpg" /></a></div>Tomorrow I will turn 59. I’m sure everyone who is, was or is going to be 59 will say the same thing, just when did this happen? While I was busy doing my life, somehow I grew older. I was talking to my 84 year Mother who was doing her usual complaining about the kids (mine in general and my grand kids, which are her great grand children), never calling and not interested in her life’s work of compiling our genealogy. This took me back. Way back to when I was young. I told her that she was old. To these KIDS she’s very old and I’m just old. They are busy being important in their own lives, building their empires and concurring their own demons. We aren't important to them in the way that she wants to be important to everyone. <br />
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When I got home I sat and gave this some deep thought. When I was five I had already known that my Mother needed a lot of attention and that guilt was her mode of manipulation. At 84 she still hasn’t made much headway into overcoming or even wanting to overcome her issues. But at 5 I knew this wasn’t how I wanted to be. And my grandparents were really old to me when I was five. At 16 nothing had changed with my Mother, but I had become close to my paternal Grandmother. I enjoyed her when I saw her, but it never occurred to me to call her to just talk. She was in her 60’s and really old. Also, even though she lived just an hour and a half away from me it felt very far. We paid for our long distance then and it was expensive and letters were the mode of communication. We visited her once in a while and had everyone together during the holidays, but I didn’t ever feel that I was letting her down if I didn’t call or write her to say hi. My other grandmother was a pain, clearly didn’t have the time of day for me so there was less interest in her. <br />
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My deep thought was the usual: Is my thinking on whatever issue I’m dealing with at the time, correct. I have this habit of checking myself daily. I try to put myself in their shoes. After all, I’m only going to be 59 and my Mother is 84. I have no idea how 84 feels like and I would never assume to understand without having first hand experience with anything.<br />
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Because of my childhood, I made a concerted effort to not do guilt on my kids and to always make them feel that they were important. Not that I didn’t want them to understand that I had value, too, but I didn’t want them to have the same emotional baggage that I lived with daily. I’m sure I failed often, but because of the subtle deep lessons learned from my parents, it never occurred to me to encourage my kids to call their grandparents. If they were with me during a holiday and away from them, we would all gather around the phone and say our happy’s to each other, but that was it. So for her now to want something that she didn’t teach me to do or do herself was interesting to me. My bad.<br />
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This is what I’ve learned so far on this issue. Guilt doesn’t feel good. Age is relative. Never assume anything. Live in the moment. And 59 looks different when you’re 5, 16 , 59 and 84. <br />
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I don’t feel what 59 looked like when I was a child. I don’t feel old. On the other hand, I do want the respect that being 59 should give me. And the good news is that my grand kids do call me because they want to talk to me. We have fun, share secrets and once in a while I’m allowed to give some wise advice. It’s not as if I expect them to follow it, but I do know that if the seed is planted there may come a day when they do get it and remember me because I’m sure I’ll be gone from this world then and that would be what I want to leave them with. Wisdom from an old lady that loved them enough to share some wisdom from a life lived. But I’m not done yet. <br />
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In my parent’s generation being 59 meant getting close to retirement. Now a days retirement is a luxury that a lot of us aren’t going to experience. For me, it’s never been an option. I’m a painter. To most I’m already retired. Doing what you love is considered a luxury and I do get it. I feel completely spoiled and luxurious every time I sit in front of my easel. The difference is that I’m still actively trying to sell my work. It’s not a hobby for me. It’s a full time job. As in everything else, times are a changin’. Twenty years ago we could pay around $100.00 for our space fee and set up our Easy Ups and grids and sell our paintings at art shows. And they actually sold. Today the game is completely different. If you aren’t up with technology you’re out of the game. That is unless you’ve already made it to the big tent and have someone else doing your bidding for you. Space fees have gone up way beyond my means. Galleries have closed and the ones still opened are full. But I’m an optimist. I got that from my Dad. He’s 87 now and very old. <br />
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This is enough of me for now, but later I want to talk about what I’ve learned about who I am and how I didn’t fit in China.<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-34160779179512131572009-11-17T09:59:00.003-07:002009-11-17T16:52:46.262-07:00Today I received from Beijing, China two magazines that featured my art work. The first is New Vision October edition, 2009. The second is HeArt Magazine, published by the art group that is hosting my gallery show in Beijng, China, April, 2010. <br />
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Below I have posted the pages from both magazines. This is the translation of what was written in New Vision Magazine:<br />
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Feminist Art Movement began in late 1960s, along with the western Feminist Movement, female artists started using art, as their weapons, to defend their female dignity. The famous American artist Judy Chicago was one of the examples. “The Dinner Party” was a representative artwork of the Feminist Art Movement. In the 1990s, Feminist Art has been entangled together with Postmodern Art, and finally became an integral part of the Postmodern Art theory. Differed from this last movement, this time, women artists began to determine their own value from the points of politics and “social return”, to consider more of their special artistic status as female artists.<br />
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Few of the present day female artists express their art through the political or historical themes. They are more likely to start with the experience of their daily lives, perceptively to express their sentiment of nature and life. The methods they prefer to use are cotton, wool, soft and lightweight materials, by way of winding, weaving or any other way to express the detail and careful psychology of women.<br />
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Peggy Guichu is an American artist. American Feminist Art has been developed successfully and has become more diversified, instead of the traditional view of gender dualism. Her works are more of the sense from her own life experiences, expressing the feelings in her impressions is an expression of the Feminist Art. By way of using the correct colors and fantastic forms, she always put her thoughts of life, which she has gathered through her life's journey into her art work. <br />
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“Overflowing”, she said, “I see this as the overflowing of abundance with rushing water forced through the narrow passageway of life and spilling over the edge, not wasted, but being carried into the next life.” The red colored mountain, the colorful watermark, the water waves formed by the rushing water, the timeless and endless river, refer to the steps of life, being enveloped in a magic dream. Such an emotional form of expression is her way to change her feelings over to the actualization, an explanation of life, the image of her real experience.<br />
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“Martini Anyone”, a creation after a comical parody of what one sees and feels after the consumption of alcohol. The beautiful flower and the feeling of floating on water are all her interpretations of what she sees of others in their intoxication.<br />
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“Ladder”, she said this work she saw as a journey in the path of life moving up, where we can take a short rests on each ledge as humans access spiritual knowledge, then continue to move forward, to explore, till one reaches the top, and further to be raised again into another world. <br />
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These works are in form of abstract. Wassily Kandinsky said that his abstract paintings were a way to express his inner feeling of the nature. He thought paintings and music had certain internal consistency. Peggy said,” Creating my paintings is like composing music, the formation of a chorus.” As she has pureed so much of her personal emotion in her paintings, she feels that those collectors who have bought her paintings hold her secrets. She feels as if she has lost something so precious to her. “My wish is that those that buy my paintings will have the same connection as I do. See the magic, hear the symphony, allow the light to reveal the secrets of my soul.” We can say that her paintings are very typical of the female artist. More emotional expression, more private in the nature, more fantastic temperaments, and soft cotton like objects frequently used. All those features come to the identity of our female artist, Peggy Guichu’s works. Whether she consciously or unconsciously used them, they are all the suitable features for her expressions.<br />
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Whether it is a quiet or dynamic image, being peaceful and beautiful, are permeated with meaning in her works. The beautiful flowers in “An Offering”, she said,” A gesture of good will and peace to Mother Earth.” In “Peace”,she said, "The original image of a waterfall becomes a white colored large majestic bird, carrying articles of peace to offer the world." In “Watching Over US” is interpreted as the sun above the earth, the cloud formed into human faces expressing happiness, refers to the Mother and Father of all that watches over us on earth. “Is It Too Later?”, the blood flowing from the eye is an expression of the concern for the condition of the globe. “Rose Pods”, expressed in the nine rose buds surrounded by pods represents the 9 word Zen Prayer. The roses grace the prayer with beauty and love. The prayer floats on the eternal waters of life carrying peace and contentment to the world. “Unity”, represents the connection of all there is.<br />
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Females, their grasp of the world is balanced and peaceful. Just like what Jia FangZhou said (critics, curator, being involved in ShangYuan Art Center), female artists may not have more interest in the political, historical, philosophical themes, but they show great interest in nature, life, humanity as well as survival related topics, to demonstrate a special love and care.<br />
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Privacy of emotional expression, pure picture on works, fantastic visual images, including her love to the world, these are the spirit of Peggy Guichu’s paintings. Being a female artist, she feels the world from her real-life experiences, with her female born care for this world. The female factors in her works are not the gender dualism in the confrontation, not the fighting for the status and social labels of female artists, but all of humanities happiness and blessings.<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-89226254174320754062009-11-17T09:49:00.000-07:002009-11-17T09:50:22.470-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLUFjLpqFI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Rlx4gAweLnM/s1600/HeArt+Page+4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405115694606559314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 142px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLUFjLpqFI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Rlx4gAweLnM/s200/HeArt+Page+4.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br />Page 4 "Catamaran" of HeArt Magazine, China<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-69497329788779773462009-11-17T09:48:00.001-07:002009-11-17T09:48:55.931-07:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLT5YULTnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/ZaYXI_o-GvI/s1600/HeArt+Page+3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405115485531098738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLT5YULTnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/ZaYXI_o-GvI/s200/HeArt+Page+3.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br />Page 3 of HeArt Magazine, China<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-64596066269750309962009-11-17T09:47:00.001-07:002009-11-17T09:47:59.429-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLTqy2GtqI/AAAAAAAAAEk/O66VZP9VItM/s1600/HeArt+Page+2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405115234954688162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLTqy2GtqI/AAAAAAAAAEk/O66VZP9VItM/s200/HeArt+Page+2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br />Page 2 of HeArt Magazine, China<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-63661421433413130132009-11-17T09:45:00.000-07:002009-11-17T09:47:09.776-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLTbjBvMXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/_CLIahxPvbw/s1600/HeArt+Page+1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405114973010473330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 143px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLTbjBvMXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/_CLIahxPvbw/s200/HeArt+Page+1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br />Page 1 of HeArt Magazine showing me in front of "Red Mountain".<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-18816201229079488082009-11-17T09:25:00.005-07:002009-11-17T09:44:11.666-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLOeiOEqyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/bgVrufhheI0/s1600/Content+Page.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405109526775245602" style="WIDTH: 142px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLOeiOEqyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/bgVrufhheI0/s200/Content+Page.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-59588742609573030962009-11-17T09:25:00.003-07:002009-11-17T09:42:31.628-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLSKGD1FdI/AAAAAAAAAEU/d_B0brVcmsA/s1600/New+Vision+Media+Page+cropped.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405113573665215954" style="WIDTH: 122px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SwLSKGD1FdI/AAAAAAAAAEU/d_B0brVcmsA/s200/New+Vision+Media+Page+cropped.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-33344063411973824192009-11-05T21:58:00.002-07:002009-11-05T22:02:00.891-07:00Why I Would Never Recommend Jezebel's Gallery<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SvOtlnNx_9I/AAAAAAAAAD0/F9cZOA6-aWQ/s1600-h/Ladiesnightout300ppi-1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400851239840907218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SvOtlnNx_9I/AAAAAAAAAD0/F9cZOA6-aWQ/s200/Ladiesnightout300ppi-1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I've been sitting here beating myself up for feeling so sad. I really didn’t have anyone to talk to about this thing that happened to me today. I am feeling so alone. And all I can do is cry. Then it occurred to me that there are people out there that might understand. Artists like myself that put their hearts and souls into their art and not until they know it’s the best they can do can they put their names on them. These are our babies, our creations. Like children some are better than others, but they are family.<br />So when I agreed to let Jezebel’s Gallery show these paintings, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave them there, but this gallery came with a good reputation and the location wasn’t in the art district of Santa Fe, NM, but it was considered to be the second art district in the area. Madrid, NM. It felt like the first time I sent my kids off to camp. Happy but already missing them.<br />I know I’m an emotional person. Some say too emotional. But I’m connected to my paintings. Ask Denise because she couldn’t understand why I cried when I left them. She was so excited that I had been accepted into this gallery and said that artists waited years for just the chance to show in this gallery. I should be on top of the world. But I loved those 6 paintings that I dropped off. I had them framed before I gave them to Jezebel’s Gallery. They looked their best.<br />Two years later, seriously no communication with the gallery. Times are tough, but they weren’t when I left the paintings. But they didn’t sell. I got an email saying how much Jezebel really loved my paintings, but because they hadn’t sold to please come and pick them up.<br />Okay. That was fine. I didn’t know why she couldn’t pick up the phone like a real human being and call me, but I called her to tell her I understood and needed to make arrangements for shipping. When I did call, she wouldn’t come to the phone. I had to relay my message between her sales girl and her, knowing that she was standing right there because I’d say something and less than ½ a second she’d be back with Jezebel's answer. It was just strange. There was no reason for bad feelings. No angry phone calls or emails. I understood that it was time to move on. I wasn’t at all angry. The only time I actually heard from her was when she asked if she could lower my price and I agreed. But for some reason she wasn’t comfortable talking with me.<br />I needed to know the cost of shipping the paintings because I live in Phoenix, AZ and I wasn’t up for the drive to New Mexico. This was September 20, 2009. Her sales girl said that Jezebel would get back to me. So I waited two weeks and emailed asking if they had gotten the amount of shipping yet. I got an email back that they would figure that right up and get right back to me. So I waited another two weeks. I emailed again, but this time I said to just go ahead and mail them C.O.D. which is what they had wanted to do. All I wanted to know was how much it was going to cost. You know, so I could find some money to pay it. No reply. So I waited another two weeks and wrote my last email. It's now November 2nd. I asked Jezebel what she needed from me in order for her to ship my paintings. I was still very polite, not angry. Just business.<br />Jezebel took offense for some reason and the next thing I know I get a call from Miguel from Jezebel’s saying that he needed my credit card number and $150.00 to ship the paintings. So finally it’s going to be over. No more cat and mouse game from these people. I was happy. He said they would be here on Thursday.<br />It didn’t occur to me that I should have asked for a receipt for my $150.00 or a copy of the shipping invoice. It was my fault that I didn’t insist that I know how much insurance they put on the shipment to cover for damages. I stupidly assumed that they would know to do this. None of this occurred to me because Jezebel is a glass artist. She ships glass all the time. She knows that you need packing material in a box with GLASS.<br />I got my paintings today. They had wrapped the paintings with paper, stacked them on top of each other. All of them different sizes, threw in some more loose paper and shipped them. Every piece of glass is shattered. The matting is sliced. I’m not ready yet to try and tape the glass together enough so that I can take out the paintings because they could easily be damaged, too. Oh, and one of the paintings wasn’t even in the box. I don’t know where that painting is.<br />So I called. Of course, I couldn’t talk to Miguel who wrapped the paintings. He wasn’t available. I had stopped asking for Jezebel a long time ago. The sales girl asked me to take pictures and she would get back with me. Of course she didn’t.<br />But the question I have to ask is why? Why couldn’t they have done a better job and gotten my paintings back to me in the condition I left them in with this awful gallery. Why? What would the benefits to them have been to be so vindictive? What do you think my chances are of Jezebel’s Gallery reimbursing me for damages? I know, you’ll get back to me.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-10728843636332943922009-08-27T11:40:00.002-07:002009-08-27T11:45:13.255-07:00The World Is Still Turning But It Feels Different<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SpbTfSMcWTI/AAAAAAAAADs/2oo-61YWaqc/s1600-h/Ladder.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374715739726698802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/SpbTfSMcWTI/AAAAAAAAADs/2oo-61YWaqc/s200/Ladder.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />It’s been a while since I’ve written. Actually since before I left for Perth July 9th. What a time that was. Yes, it did change me. I came back filled with love that I can carry with me now always. A beautiful family and a land filled with lovely people. It was beyond any thoughts or anticipations that I had.<br />Do you know that in Australia people are actually happy. They work hard at jobs that fulfill them, with people that they can laugh with and then they go on holiday. If they get sick they actually can go to a doctor. If this is socialism I want it.<br />When I got home my entire world opened up to me. I keep pinching myself to realize that it is all real. Now I have to write about Jessy.<br />That’s not her Chinese name, but certainly easier for me to say. She has become my angel. She bought “Ladder” from me in April and she says that this painting has changed her. She decided to help me in my pursuits. She has opened up doors for my art that I could have only dreamed of. She just walked up to these doors and opened them. Oh she’s worked hard, but she knows how to organize and make things happen. And in her words, “I’m always thinking”. Her story is more magnificent because of where she started. A lone little girl who had big dreams, got knocked down hard and stood back up and is now power and compassion. She has taken my art to a new level. I won’t bore you with details, but I can say that next month I will be featured in a six page section filled with my paintings and writings in a very respected art magazine in China. They told Jessie that I am their first non-Chinese artist that they have featured ever. She has gotten critiques from two of the most famous artists in China, made a brochure of my work and entered me in two international shows. All this in a matter of three months. Yes pinch me. It’s been a while since I felt a purpose to paint. Now I feel an obligation to paint just to make her proud.<br />Even in these hard times greatness is possible. Success is possible. No my head isn’t swelling up with ego, but I do have hope now. I do feel that I’m moving forward. And I’ve learned a lesson. A nice lesson this time. This is the lesson of partnership and trust. I can’t do it all alone. It’s okay to accept help. Just as long as I always remember: Never take advantage. Share not only in the joy, but the compensation, as well. And give credit where credit is due.<br />I always love synchronicity. Before I left for Australia my wonderful sister bought me this great Nikon SLR camera. That was first. The second was that I have always wanted PhotoShop to work with my images, but could never afford the price tag. Two weeks ago Worldstart.com advertised a program called PhotoDesigner Pro that was similar to PS, but only, are you ready, $8.95 and free shipping. I bought it. Then I found out about the magazine spread. If I hadn’t had my camera I wouldn’t have been able to take the photos needed for the magazine and if I hadn’t had this program, which came one day prior to finding out about the magazine opportunity, I would never have been able to size, turn the images into TIF and adjust the color just right for the magazine. The stars are in alignment for sure. And this program is very similar to PS. Jessie has PS and we were able to talk back and forth on what was needed. I could do everything that her PS did. So thank you Beth and Worldstart. Without you I could not have taken advantage of this great opportunity.<br />You can feast your eyes on my sisters artwork at <a href="http://www.artbyelizabethtaft.com/">http://www.artbyelizabethtaft.com/</a><br />Also go to <a href="http://www.worldstart.com/">http://www.worldstart.com/</a> and buy PhotoDesigner Pro. You won’t be disappointed.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-88099602546923374612009-04-09T14:27:00.000-07:002009-04-09T14:28:47.066-07:00ThoughtsIt's been nearly a week. I've been working on staying in the NOW. It's hard. So much going on. Bills to pay. A house to clean and a yard that needs seriously attention. Work on my latest painting Stay in the NOW. Don't redo the entire evening. Don't go through every word you said. Don't analyze. Let it go. Be in the NOW.<br />Andrew. A shining light. A man with an eternally youthful smile. That smile carries itself through eternity and back. So genuine. So kind. A clear karma. He knows what his path is. He knows who he is and he knows where he's going. Contentment and joy. That's Andrew. Yet I know that he works himself down to the bone. He carries the trust of important people. Loving people, but just the same, he works so very hard. Does he stay in the NOW? Is he always present? It seemed that way.<br />Eva. I have absolutely no idea what her age is. She is timeless. Inner beauty and grace. Efficient or she wouldn’t hold such an important position. Yet, like Andrew, she is so comfortable with herself. Always gracious and kind.<br />I could spend the rest of my life and never reach the level of grace both of these people were born with. Are they married? Do they have families? Is there a husband waiting for Eva? Is he as evolved as she is? Or is she like most, in a relationship that takes work, patience and love. I doubt that Andrew is married. When would he have time to see a wife, care for a child, be present for them. He's all over the world. Traveling between every country on the globe. Doing his work that he knows has purpose. Working for a man who is even more than him, if that's possible.<br />So it's been almost a week. I've failed at being in the NOW. I've dissected every single word I spoke. Second guessed how it came across. I was nervous around Andrew. Probably because I felt he held my future in his gaze, attentiveness. What did he see?<br />I know some things. I know that I am doing what I was meant to do. I know who I am and where I've come from. I know where my healing needs to go. I also know that I must be done with all of it and be in the NOW in order to be where I want to be. It's not about money or fame or prestige. It's about doing my work. Telling truth through my work. Sounds simple, but it's the hardest thing I've ever attempted to do in my lifetime up to now. NOW. There's that word again. I can't afford to make a misstep, but I know I will. I'm not like Andrew and Eva. I'm flawed. I have baggage and issues around me every day that I have to put myself into. It's time to ask the question again. The question that stops the internal chatter. The words that bring me in, explore me in, turn me in. NOW. I feel my fingers toughing the keys to the keyboard. Flowing across mindlessly. I can type. Thank God for that. I can type fast and accurately. But if I stop and think about each key instead of the phrase I'm typing I make mistakes. Is that it? Not questioning each touch of the key. It stops me like it stops me when I question every word I say. I need to let it flow. Keep going without thought. That question is back. It's the only thing that stops me.<br />What is my next thought?…………………………….<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-73124939742333718992009-03-11T10:47:00.000-07:002009-03-11T10:49:12.002-07:00Do I Need A Second Job?Yesterday I was in a cleaning mood. Everyone's always happy when that happens. Of course, I expect a great deal of praise for the beauty that I created. I'm not what you would call a clean freak like my daughter, the nurse, but I do like a clean, picked up environment. The clutter in my head lessens when the house is in order. Today I feel like writing.<br /><br />I talked about needing a job to help with the downward spiral of our finances. Well, I made an attempt at a temp agency last week. They didn't have any openings. I could probably land one. Prior to being a full time artist, full time faux finisher, full time artist again, I did work in secretarial/management positions. I know this sounds like a huge excuse, but hear me out.<br /><br />Not to bore you, but I have to give you a bit of a profile so you will fully understand my circumstances. Without it, this wouldn't make sense. We are living literally on the edge. My husband is in the commissions game. He places people in apartments. The apartment communities pay his office a fee and he gets 50%. We're talking maybe $150.00 per client. It takes a whole lot of clients to pay our bills. Prior to my vertigo problem I was bringing in around $25,000 a year from faux finishing plus whatever I made through art sales. We are now unable to pay our income taxes just to mention one issue. So, my getting a job would definitely help our situation. Now to the real problem I have. Just how much does anyone really need.<br /><br />This is relative, of course, to one's state of mind, position in the community, etc. But, morally, with everyone losing their homes, children starving and living in cars, I have to ask the question. We could lose our home, too. That's a real possibility. But we don't have small children to feed now. Just our two dogs, one cat and a duck that can't fly that lives with us in our pool. So for me to take a job would seem wrong.<br /><br />If I were to land a job, how many other men and women who have small children to feed would not get that one job available. If you think I'm stretching this theory look at the unemployment numbers and at least double them because they are truly not reflective of how many people have lost their jobs. I really think we all need to do our part in helping. I wouldn't feel right about taking a job that someone more needing of that job would lose.<br /><br />I know, you ask, "How would you know you had taken it from someone more needing?" I don't. But lets be serious here. I'm not a specialist in biochemistry. Whatever job I would be qualified for could be filled by a lot of people.<br /><br />What I'm trying to say here is this, what do YOU really need and how much can you live without in order to survive? I have been accused of being too ethical. I'd rather be more ethical than egotistical. There is a lot I can give up and have. I love my home, but it's not the most important aspect of my life. Not anymore. I've taken inventory and found that I could go way down the economic scale and still be very happy. I can only work on a few paintings at one time so my expenses aren't extreme. If all of us would dig deep and realize that there is real need out there, there probably wouldn't be as much need. We are all a family. If giving up an extra income that would make me more comfortable is all I can do to help others, I'm willing to do it. Thank God my husband shares my views, because he has to work very hard to keep us afloat. But he does have a job which is more than a lot of people can say right now.<br /><br />As I'm sitting here writing this a dove just walked into my room from my patio. How absolutely wonderful is that? I'm talking to him right now and he's just standing here with my cat and two dogs right next to me on the floor. We are all just talking to each other. Life is good.<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-8235272527182430292009-03-03T11:32:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:04:27.066-07:00Good News<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa19yE6POzI/AAAAAAAAAB4/kktM7e82vuM/s1600-h/Ontheroadtoenlightenment.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309037835004623666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa19yE6POzI/AAAAAAAAAB4/kktM7e82vuM/s200/Ontheroadtoenlightenment.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div>This week I have been accepted into the X-Power International Art Show being held at X-Power Gallery in Beverly Hills. They accepted "On The <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa18vRfu2WI/AAAAAAAAABg/AMNx7eZOafs/s1600-h/Ontheroadtoenlightenment.jpg"></a>Road To Enlightenment"<br /><br />The publication of "A Published Gallery" has accepted 6 of my paintings to be featured in this new book.<br /><br />Good to have good news once in awhile.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-30584114258797392412009-03-03T11:26:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:06:01.076-07:00On The Topic of Talent<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa1_hCKeLiI/AAAAAAAAACA/gXjZcgFhf4s/s1600-h/Heavenly++Body.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309039741232885282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa1_hCKeLiI/AAAAAAAAACA/gXjZcgFhf4s/s200/Heavenly++Body.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa19G61_g9I/AAAAAAAAABo/GLCJGq6uJ00/s1600-h/Heavenly++Body.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div>It's Wednesday, I need to start my day, begin some kind of exercise routine, finish whatever chores I MUST DO and allow myself the luxury of painting.<br /><br />Yet, here I am writing. I started my morning off with Tara Reed's, Art Licensing E-News blog which took me to Annie Salness's blog on "What is Your Creative Habit". Then I found Michael Orwick's blog where he introduces a fabulous 18 minute video <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/453" href_cetemp="http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/453">http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/453</a> of Elizabeth Gilbert talking about where talent comes from according to legend. Last, but definitely not least I found myself at Sue Smith's blog where she, too, was talking about talent in her blog "What Does It Take To Be Talented."<br /><br />Evidently Talent is the topic of the week. I find it ironic because I've been deeply thinking about that same subject for a bit of time now. I will say to all my students that we are all capable of doing everything. If you have the desire to learn something you most certainly have the ability to learn it. I truly believe that God or your higher power would not give anyone the desire without the ability to accomplish the task.<br /><br />Having said that I am reminded of a student I had years ago who could not see prospective and she had MS so holding the brush was difficult for her. But she wanted to paint and I believed that if she had the desire she would be able to accomplish the art of watercolor. I'm the type of teacher who does not instruct. It makes for an easy work day actually. I just sit my students down, show them the materials they need, how to use the water and paint, give them paper (at the time I was teaching watercolor) and tell them to paint. It's quite a challenge for most people. Especially those who are used to attending classes where they are told what to do or read or write in order to get their degrees. It's the fear that comes over my students when I say, "Just Paint!" that is my hard work as a teacher. I want to jump in and rescue them, but I know that until they win the battle over fear my work is not done. I am happy to say that I have never had a student walk out of my class. And Margo is still painting. She is painting with her talent. She was able to create a style where her lack of prospective worked for her. Along with her beautiful colors and the joy in the realization that she can paint and sell her paintings now gives her great pleasure. Josey is another one who pops to mind. I sat with her for over a week of private watercolor classes before she could conquer her fear of letting go. It was such a joy to see these people open up to the possibility that in their soul there really was an artist just waiting to be discovered and experienced. Is this talent or God granting a prayer?<br /><br />Elizabeth Gilbert wrote the book "Eat, Pray, Love." In this video she talks about the fears involved with her second attempt at greatness due to the fact that her book has become a national best seller beyond her dreams and how many artist's have left us early because of the demons accompanied with this fear of not being able to live with their talent.<br /><br />Talent is a word that when I say it or it is said to me creates this deep penetrating caution inside my gut. I'm definitely not comfortable with it. When people say that I'm talented my immediate reaction is to say no I'm not really. This inevitably follows praise which is not my intention at all. I feel embarrassed by the reference as if I don't deserve it or that by thinking I may be talented makes me seem somehow conceited. At the very instance that I feel that stab, I'm confronted with the other feeling of not respecting the gift that has been given to me from God. These are two very conflicting emotions that I struggle with.<br /><br />I agree with Sue Smith when she talks about going past the fear to reach the next level of accomplishment. If we don't give ourselves that challenge then we can't progress. I'm a living example of that for sure.<br /><br />You'll be proud of me Sue because I finally overcame one of my gut fears just this week. I completed a nude. (I have attached the painting to the blog. I'm not sure I'm finished, but there it is.) Not a much defined nude, but a nude never the less. I've never been able to do this. I've started, but always painted over it because it made me feel so uncomfortable. If you that are reading have read any of my other blogs you'll remember that I was chastised for painting a nude woman as a child. After writing that blog it occurred to me that I had been affected by that childhood memory more than I had realized and now was the time to deal with it.<br /><br />Artist's who teach will always be students. This is a fact. I had to take my challenge of "Just Paint" and practice what I preached. Is there talent in all of us or are just a few demonized by this entity? Is the talent from a separate source as Elizabeth talks about? I know I've felt that especially in the painting "On The Road To Enlightenment." It took me months to finish this piece because I had to wait for the next bit of information in order to take it where it wanted to go. Have you had that feeling?<br /><br />I believe this is the essence of life. It's so simple yet so difficult to assimilate and glide through. How about this: With the desire brings the talent which comes from the faith that you can and this brings us to now. Where ever that now is for each of us individually in the collective consciousness of the universe is the mystery and joy.<br /><br />I will continue to force myself past my demons. Whether I paint another nude or not is not what is important. The fact that I made myself finish it and felt comfortable with the finished piece is the beauty of life and where I can go now because of that action. Is it talent that ables me to go there? I don't know. Personally, I have decided to take the ancient attitude of talent and accept that it comes from an outside source that joins me in my endeavors.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-2530143064665173822009-02-16T16:47:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:07:14.462-07:00Survival<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa1_3Yb2EyI/AAAAAAAAACI/oZR8xk_lZeg/s1600-h/frenzyweb.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309040125168456482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa1_3Yb2EyI/AAAAAAAAACI/oZR8xk_lZeg/s200/frenzyweb.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa19YW-i5gI/AAAAAAAAABw/x2f6PWMVk6Q/s1600-h/frenzyweb.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div>I've been told that in order to write a successful blog one must write articles that others will be interested in reading. Well okay, I'm game. Just what are other people interested in? I only know myself. I'm not that interesting, but I do know myself. Obviously, I'm interested in art, but that's narrow. My interests usually go with the flow of others. Aren't we all influenced in many ways by each other? Who really painted the first rose?<br /><br />My interests these days are in how to survive. Because I've been suffering from pneumonia for the past month I am interested in more than financial survival, but the physical kind as well. I'm never sick. I don't like being sick. To me, losing a day is tragic. After a few life threatening situations I find that each minute I'm aware of living, is precious to me. I hate losing time because of sickness. I can't sleep during the day and I rarely sleep more than 6 hours at night. I know that time is relative, but even though I never wear a watch the time does seem to fly by with or without it.<br /><br />Survival, interesting concept. Because we are alive, does that mean we are surviving or is there a deeper meaning to the word survival? The dictionary states that survival is a continuance beyond the life of another; any ancient use, custom, or belief continuing to the present day (Webster, 1962). Then there is survival of the fittest. That makes me think of President Kennedy and his fitness program. (I have no idea where that came from, but it did.)<br /><br />Am I just surviving or is my life making a difference? Will my art survive me? Will you know me because of my art? I never do anything with ease. That's something I know about myself. If I type I have to be the fastest. If I study I have to get the best grade, know the most. It's never been a competition against another. I've somewhere in my past found the need to better myself with each day. Push to beat myself. Being who I am I've psychoanalyzed myself to death. This drive comes from the fact that my parents never expected me to do well. I was considered not extremely smart and C's were just fine. It's not their fault. They'd never heard of dyslexia and I didn't know I had it until I was 30 and put through a weeks worth of testing at the University of Nevada, Reno. They wanted to know what skills I had and what I would excel in before they admitted me. I found out I wasn't stupid and I was extremely dyslexic. I was also pergnant, which was an even bigger surprise, but that's for another time. I did find out I was interested in painting from those tests. I must have known deep inside as a small child and all through my growing up years that I wasn't really stupid. I struggled at reading and that was explained away because I had been deaf when they were teaching reading. But I pushed myself and I really liked the way it felt.<br /><br />I want to be the best. I know this is a very high hurdle to glide over, but it's the honest truth. Why else would anyone do anything if it weren't to achieve greatness? What would be the point? If I don't make it into the group of the best at least I will be able to say I gave it my all. Right now with the economy as it is, I'm sure most of us out there painting are being looked down at as lazy because we don't GET A JOB. Make some money.<br /><br />I want to survive, but I'm stubborn. I want to survive beyond money. I want my spirit to survive, too. This is considered selfish now in this world we live in. It's not really socially accepted to actually like what you do for a job. When I get well, which I'm sure will be very soon (I'm practicing positive thinking), I'm going to GET A JOB other than painting. It's the right thing to do to help my family financially survive. I do have skills. Yep, I can type 150 wpm, unfortunately. My heart won't be in it, but I'll fake it. I'll push myself to be the best at whatever I can do to make money. I'd much rather sell a painting, but I have no control over that other than offering the work to buy. My heart will be in front of my easel with my favorite white sweatshirt, legs crossed leaning into a canvas filled with potential. I would love to live in a world where art was considered a job, but it isn't. Somewhere in all of this chaos I will find a balance. I must for my own survival. What is survival for you?</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-28684330502796976652009-01-23T11:02:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:10:49.786-07:00Balance and Being An Artist<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2AsyViGnI/AAAAAAAAACQ/VQvBea5TWIc/s1600-h/The+function72.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309041042654370418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2AsyViGnI/AAAAAAAAACQ/VQvBea5TWIc/s200/The+function72.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today I want to talk about balance. It's always been important to me. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I'm a freak of nature and anbidextrous, but I've always considered balance in all aspects of my life. If there is no balance in a situation, then that situation needs to be tweeked in some way.Okay, I'll get to the point. I know I'm rambling around here. I'm just trying to work this out. I'm a daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother who is an artist. I can hear you now. Yes, in a perfect world I would love to say I'm an artist who also just happens to be a daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother, but I'm a realist and there is no perfect world. I know who I am. I am an artist. But the fact that I am the daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother begs that I put people first. Actually it screams that I find a balance.How do I make this happen? You know what I'm talking about. How do I make myself stand out, be seen, recognized as the ARTIST if my LIFE requires that I be FIRST the daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother? I don't want to hear from those that say I just need to put myself and my art first. There is no balance in that anymore than there is balance in my reality. Does it take an unbalanced life to be successful? I could say that, yes, it does take an unbalanced life to be successful. I look at successful artists and I see someone paying the bills at least prior to that success. I remember talking to a potter who was set up next to me at an outdoor fine art show in Tahoe, CA. He had a beautiful set up for the shows and he worked as a potter full time, but he only sold 4 bowls all weekend. It took me three days of friendly conversation to find out that his wife was the president of a local bank. He admitted that if he hadn't had the support of his wife, there would be no way that he could be sitting there selling his pottery. I want to know how everyone else is doing it. What sacrifices have you made or someone else has made for you so that you can pursue your art? For those of you who have found balance, share. Let me know how you did it.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-34429587280455134522009-01-12T09:31:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:11:56.937-07:00Signature Style Continued From Sue Smith's blog<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2A7yyCVEI/AAAAAAAAACY/UUuToBe10V4/s1600-h/5782_188116l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309041300471960642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2A7yyCVEI/AAAAAAAAACY/UUuToBe10V4/s200/5782_188116l.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Sue <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Favinger</span> Smith is a professional artist who began her art career at the age of 50. She writes Ancient Artist: Developing an Art Career After 50, a blog dedicated to empowering artists seeking to reinvent themselves at mid-life. You can subscribe by visiting <a href="http://ancientartist.typepad.com./" href_cetemp="http://ancientartist.typepad.com./">http://ancientartist.typepad.com./</a><br /><br />I wanted to put your information up first because you started this! I left a comment on your blog, but it reminded me of something that affected me profoundly that I'd like to share with all of you about the subject of signature style.<br /><br />I was asked to bring my work to a gallery in Santa Fe, NM. She had seen the work online and wanted me to show in her gallery. This was my first offer since working in oils and I was very excited and nervous at the same time. Being a "you never know so be prepared" type of person, I also brought some watercolors along for her to consider. I got to the gallery, unloaded all 16 large oil paintings and waited for her approval. I was nervous, but she had said she wanted my work so I assumed she would just pick out the ones she wanted to show, I'd sign the contract and be on my way. I wasn't prepared for her extensive critique which later I was told by another artist was a huge compliment since most galleries don't give free critiques.<br /><br />She said that my paintings weren't finished, that I painted my oils the way I would use watercolor. This, of course, was due to my lack of knowledge in the medium. She said some nice words and gave me some encouragement, but basically, they weren't what she wanted. She was extremely professional and very nice. As I was packing up all my very large paintings I mentioned to her in passing that I had brought some of my watercolors if she was interested in seeing them. I figured I'd come all this way, I might as well lay it all out there. She took a look at the top painting and asked her assistant to get them all out of the van and handed me a contract to sign. I signed the contract, left the paintings, loaded up my oils and I was back on the road.<br /><br />The tears started to fall. I was in such an emotional <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">turmoil</span>. I just couldn't figure out how to feel about any of it. I was happy to have a gallery in Santa Fe, thrilled that she wanted my watercolors, but hurt by the rejection of my oils. I was reminded of what my artist friend said who told me how fortunate I was to have been asked when so many other artists spend years trying to get a foot in the door and the fact that I was invited was such a compliment.<br /><br />This is where the baggage comes into play. Here I am 57 years old and feeling the same way I felt at 8 when I was so excited to show my Mother the drawings I had just done. It never occurred to me that I would be punished for drawing a female body. I wasn't allowed to draw after that and it had a profound affect on my life. I didn't pick up another pencil until I was 30. Baggage is a bitch! The other emotion was because I loved those watercolors. They were my favorites and I already missed them. Crazy right?<br /><br />When I got home I had to deal with the critique. It was important for me to accept her words of wisdom and apply them to my work. For the next 6 weeks I struggled to do what she suggested. Use more paint. I called it the glob effect. I just couldn't do it. I ruined so many paintings trying to do what she felt was a true oil painting.<br /><br />When I was contacted by another gallery in Texas you can imagine the apprehension I felt. Driving all the way to Texas with my paintings just knowing that this gallery owner would say the same thing. But she didn't. She loved my way of painting. She said that it was new and interesting and wanted to know how I used my oils to create the watercolor effect. She accepted me into her gallery and took 9 of my paintings.<br /><br />This is what I've learned from these experiences. Okay, so I'm too sensitive. I can't help it. I'm extremely connected to my art. It's a part of me. Yes, I need to be able to accept constructive criticism, but it is only one point of view. It did totally mess with my head for quite a while, but the information was without a doubt very valuable and I've integrated it into my work to a point.<br /><br />Not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">everyone is</span> going to like what I do, but as I've always said, I need to be authentic, true to myself. Because I am a self-taught artist, I'm not influenced by the traditional way of painting. Right or wrong and I don't think there is a right or wrong, it's what my work looks like. It's what I do. This must be what Sue Smith refers to as a Signature Style.<br /><br />Thank you Sue for this mind opening dialogue.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-12731287123555875832009-01-11T13:35:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:13:30.279-07:00On the Subject of Style<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2BU4g8aVI/AAAAAAAAACg/pTu_CWWm3Eg/s1600-h/5782_121787l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309041731507611986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 118px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2BU4g8aVI/AAAAAAAAACg/pTu_CWWm3Eg/s200/5782_121787l.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>My comment on the discussion of style by "Ancient Artist: Developing an art career after 50":<br /><br />This subject has come up with me often, as well. I have been told by "those who know" that I have a personal style and that this is essential to become a collected artist. I don't see it, but I'm real happy others do if that's what it takes to be considered an ARTIST. I just paint. It's that simple. I can't find any cohesion with my watercolors and my oils, but I love both mediums. My pen and inks are nothing like my oils and watercolors, but they are still MY WORK. So, I would say that those "Who make the rules" have done most artist's a disservice. Being an artist lends itself to being free and unconventional. So telling us that we need to find our signature is like telling an ant not to build an underground den. I say just keep doing what feels good and there will always be someone out there who wants to share your den.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-14431144817910924382009-01-02T10:05:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:14:56.361-07:00New School Year<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2BqoaOzQI/AAAAAAAAACo/lmg886yorBw/s1600-h/giraffesfaw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309042105141611778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 131px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2BqoaOzQI/AAAAAAAAACo/lmg886yorBw/s200/giraffesfaw.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is the time of year when I reflect on lessons I've been given from the classes I've purposely or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">inadvertantly</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">enroled</span> in and decide which classes I need to further my education.<br /><br />My class schedule was heavy for 2008. I took "Caring for Injured Mother 101", Caring for Stroke Victim Father 102", "Learning How to Emotionally Handle Declining a Wonderful Opportunity Due to Lack of Funds" (that was a three part class), "Galleries and How They Can Teach You To Be More Patient", "When To Say No" and "Where To Go From Here". Great classes with lots of opportunities to learn and apply the lessons.<br /><br />I met some great people in my classes which for me is usually the best part of going to school. My grades were average, probably due to the class load, but I really learned a lot. The important part of education is taking the learned knowledge and applying it to your life and career.<br /><br />This year I've enrolled in "Not Accepting Failure", "How To Have A Millionaire's Attitude with Limited Funds" and "Balancing Family and Career and Still Making the Cut". I haven't talked with my counselor yet, but I'm going to try and keep my class schedule low. She might have a few more classes she thinks I might need to reach the Master's Program, but I really want to concentrate on better grades.<br /><br />Well I just got a call from my counselor and she told me I'm going to have to retake "When To Say No", but it's only a 2 credit course so I should be able to fit it into my schedule.<br /><br />I hope I meet some of you in school this year. It's always such a blast when we can all get together and bounce around our curriculum and cram for those tests. See you in the Class of 2009.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-8215081604004040032008-12-30T10:36:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:17:46.178-07:00In response to Robert Genn's "Love your Name"<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2CUlCElyI/AAAAAAAAACw/2j7Qf8aFbDQ/s1600-h/elephanthat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309042825789478690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2CUlCElyI/AAAAAAAAACw/2j7Qf8aFbDQ/s200/elephanthat.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I've had my share of names in this life time. When I started painting I was Weisel. Weisel quickly turned into Weisel-Keisser then just Keisser. Then I moved on to Keisser-Jirik which became Jirik. I took a break from painting, but not name changing. I was glad to skip that next name and go directly into Jirik-Guichu. Alas I have settled permanently on Guichu. My husband is real happy about that, too. There was a time between Jirik and Guichu when I seriously considered changing to O'Malley. I hadn't ever met an O'Malley so I thought it would be safe - thankfully I didn't. I would have ended up with Jirik-O'Malley-Guichu, or maybe Weisel-Keisser-Jirik-O'Malley-Guichu. Talk about an identity crisis. My advise to all female painters is to pick a name and stick with it. Collectors will take you more seriously and your personal life won't be plastered all over your artwork.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-68335115221411964022008-12-30T09:13:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:18:21.341-07:002nd Day of my New Year<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2CeBVTHpI/AAAAAAAAAC4/YMefRMfsp9s/s1600-h/5782_139409l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309042988005138066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2CeBVTHpI/AAAAAAAAAC4/YMefRMfsp9s/s200/5782_139409l.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today I want to talk about "<strong>BE BACKS</strong>". A lot of you artists have probably evolved from the weekend fine art shows to dealing only with galleries, but you must be able to remember the "<strong>BE BACKS</strong>".<br /><br />In Early December my "<strong>FOR SURE</strong>" customer said he wouldn't have money for the painting he was buying from me until after December 31st. Okay, my first reaction was, Hum Bug, there goes Christmas. It hadn't flashed at me yet. I still had it in my desperate 'I need that sale' mind set that after Dec. 31st meant January 1, 2009. A few days passed and it hit me. He may be a "<strong>BE BACK</strong>" kind of guy. (Did you catch that 'may be'? I'm still holding out hope.) I mean really, what does after Dec. 31st really mean? Does it mean January 1st or April 16th or August 21st, 2054?<br /><br />It wasn't that long ago, (well about 15 years, but who's counting) when I was sitting in a park with my easy-up and paintings taking a tally of how many <strong>BE BACKS </strong>I had talked to that day. All of the artists would get together at the end of the day and compare lists. I guess you had to be there. It was fun. I would want to say, "when will you be back?" Five minutes, three hours, tomorrow, NEVER!<br /><br />I had such a tremendous day yesterday. So many incredibly cool people have joined me on Twitter. So I took inventory. Instead of stressing over my <strong>BE BACK</strong> I can slip over and listen to Mike Dooley, founder of TUT.com remind me that my thoughts become things. Just listening to him makes me driven to think January 1st, 2009 not 2054. After I center my positive thought process I can jump right back into Alyson Standfield's book "I'd Rather be in the Studio". Then I'll go to MCHammer's site and listen to poetic music while I paint.<br /><br />It's going to be another great day. You have one, too.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-18539989993943204142008-12-29T16:04:00.000-07:002008-12-29T16:10:26.785-07:00Comment on Robert Genn's "Channeling Negative Energy" Dec.12, 2008Getting <a title="Frenzyoil painting by Peggy Guichu" src="http://clicks.robertgenn.com/images/artists/peggy_guichu/121608_peggy-guichu-artwork_sm.jpg"></a>together with family isn't my most anticipated endeavor. I'm the one in my family who always wants to make nice. But during the holidays I'm put to the test. Two years ago I did a painting between Thanksgiving and Christmas. My husband finally begged me to take it down. He felt so much anger coming from it that it was distracting and depressing to him. I tried everything I could to cheer it up, but the drama just wouldn't go away. Gesso was my only option. I do think that stress and conflict can produce some powerful work. Perhaps, for many of us, painting is our way of escaping reality. During times of high stress, the strength that it takes to shed it comes out in our work.<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-56505743213715685512008-12-29T14:37:00.000-07:002008-12-29T14:38:17.248-07:00Art Jury CompetitionOne Step Up From Third was accepted into the Fall/Winter 2008 show.<div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701060669312804423.post-76061642535386358452008-12-29T10:44:00.000-07:002009-03-03T12:19:03.424-07:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2Cor5Mb7I/AAAAAAAAADA/vgiTzsqvrhM/s1600-h/weepingrose.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309043171228676018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tr-9wyeq4RE/Sa2Cor5Mb7I/AAAAAAAAADA/vgiTzsqvrhM/s200/weepingrose.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today is the beginning of my N<strong>ew Year</strong>. I'm a bit early, but I have to get started. I've decided to create boundaries this year. I'm setting aside 4 hours a day for art. No phone calls or interruptions will be allowed except emergencies which will come through on my cell phone. That's an easy one since only four family members have that number and I have told them of my plans so they know not to use it unless it is a dire emergency. That will be up for interpretation I'm sure.<br /><br />This sounds harsh to those around me, but it's more of an exercise for me. I need the discipline of not answering the phone. I need to concentrate on building my business of art. Whether it involves reading other art blogs, working on my website, studying the business of promotion or painting, I will be doing it between 11am and 3pm, Monday through Friday every week this year. I will leave open the days I clean my parents house and I'm sure there will be some days I will need to go there to fit things. But I will try to make it before 11am or after 3pm.<br /><br />It has occurred to me that I've been full of excuses to insure my failure. I tell myself that I must be there for my parents. Both of them have health issues. Then there are my grandchildren that I love and am happily responsible for 4 out of the 5 school days and nights each week. They need me to collect them from school and give them my attention. I can't leave out my husband who has a tendency to call me 4 or 5 times a day and I do have friends that need to tell me all their problems, too. Boundaries. That's the ticket. If I can do it so can they. There's going to be a bit of an adjustment period, but I'll let you know how it goes. I'm optimistic that all of us can make it through.<br /><br />Negative interaction brings my creativity to a screeching halt. If I can discipline myself to not allow negativity or any interference into my life for 4 itty bitty hours a day I can only imagine how much I will be able to accomplish toward my goals.<br /><br />Happy beginning of 2009 to all of you. Let me know what your goals are and we can all help each other sit up straight and get on with it.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">www.peggyguichu.com</div>Peggy Guichuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11922118659312922583noreply@blogger.com1