Artistic Legacy

This piece is from a series I did called In Lieu of Flowers, I Remember You. It’s about discovering the stories of family I never knew.

If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me?

Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me? ~Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen) Out of Africa

Karen Blixen, played by Meryl Streep, is so eloquently and poignantly asking if she has created any legacy as she leaves her beloved Africa. Has she made a mark upon the land she so loved? She seems to hope to be remembered in some small way to have been a part of it all.



KwaZulu Natal, South Africa, photo by Robyn Gordon

Legacy goes beyond a set of assets left to our heirs. Legacy is a bit of influence, a mark made, an impact of some kind, or a physical bit of evidence that we were here, and we created.

As artists we create our work, we make a statement, we leave evidence – our art becomes a body of work, our blog posts and artist statements become a record. Have you thought about creating something that reflects and records your creative endeavors? Do you want to be the one to tell your story, or do you want to leave that for others, or do think your work will simply dissipate into the ethers?

Have you yourself received a legacy from a creative relative? Have you found value in learning from artists that have gone before you? Do you have a role model or role models in the artistic sense?

I have spent time interviewing my elder relatives, and recording their stories, and the stories they can tell me of their contemporaries, now passed on. I have written the stories and passed them on to other relatives. I do this out of love – for the stories of the past, for the recording of a life beyond a set of dates. I do this because the story would have been lost. Many people in my family were “makers” working with their hands, creating something useful or beautiful. My work is never done in regard to recording the stories.



Ancestral Voices, carving by Robyn Gordon

It gives me pause to think how my story might be told. And I think I want to have a say in how it is recorded and how I am remembered. I don’t want to be just a line on a family tree record, with dates and kinships being the solitary notation of my existence.

I know artists are using all kinds of new software, and developing books to tell their stories, to share their body of work so far, and to leave a mark on this earth. Blogs can be printed and bound in book form. What else is possible?

I plan on several more decades of creative endeavors, but I certainly could collect a set of images and words, and put together a record to date. (Titled Zen, and the Art of Collage, as suggested by Denise at the blog grrr+dog a while ago)




This piece is another from a series I did called In Lieu of Flowers, I Remember You. It’s about discovering the stories of family I never knew. Each piece contains hidden words I wrote about the feeling of connection I have with the work, and the people I heard stories about all my life, but never knew.

Another part of my legacy will be the encouragement I have given to the creative young people in my family, and for my steadfast belief that creativity is important, it matters and it will continue to be a positive influence in the world. That won’t be something to put in book form, but it is meaningful to me. It is that kind of legacy that Karen Blixen is speaking of when she asks “does Africa know a song of me?”

I’ll just mention that in my upcoming coaching group we will spend some time looking at Artistic Legacy. If you are interested in taking part, send me an email to coach leslie@ olypen.com (remove the spaces). There are still some spaces open in the group.

Do you think of your work as a legacy? Does it matter to you how you and your work are remembered? What are you doing to create a record of your work? If you decide to write about this on your blog, please let us know by leaving a comment here. I am interested in your thoughts.

Studio Visit with Bob and Susan Cornelis

Untitled (as of yet) Collage, 6 by 6 inches, by Leslie Avon Miller



Susan Cornelis outside her lovely studio.



Interior of Susan's Studio



Interior of the Photography Studio of Bob Cornelis




Interior of the Photography Studio of Bob Cornelis; another view

This week we are visiting the studios of a husband and wife team of artists; Bob Cornelis who is a painter, blogger, photographer, and all around interesting person, along with his lovely wife Susan, who is a painter, blogger and instructor.

I asked Bob what works best for you about your current studio space?

The fact that the studio is separate from the house, though on our property, makes it extremely convenient yet private. Another critical factor is that it serves 3 purposes: I run my fine art printing business there, it acts as a gallery and as my photography studio.


What one thing would you change about your current studio space?

While the multi-purpose nature of the space is a plus in many ways, I would actually prefer it if my business were situated elsewhere. Since I am there 9-5 everyday working on the art of others, sometimes it is harder to want to spend even more time there working on my own art. I would prefer a space dedicated just to making my own art. It would feel more of a refuge and a place to escape to. Instead, when I walk in I am confronted with work I know I need to do the next day. This situation does have its pros and cons (see below).


“For some artists the studio becomes a temple, a place invested with a sacred energy. You walk in and your thinking changes…It is your temple, the place where you focus your energies to express yourself. Your creative home base.” – Ian Roberts, Creative Authenticity

Would you care to comment on that?

I do feel there is an energy in my studio and it is related to artmaking. But I have to take a larger view of it to feel comfortable. For the last 10 years I have worked probably 50-60 hours a week making art in this space. But most of that time has been spent working on the art of others. So if I just reflect on my own efforts, I can feel a little frustrated that I cannot just focus on my own expression. On the other hand, when I think about how much wonderful art has passed through these doors over the years, I can feel that it is a temple with a sacred energy. I have surely benefited in my own work by helping others with theirs. It is a space I share with many in that respect.

One unusual aspect of my studio which must seem very strange to painters is that there are no windows. The first thing I did when I built the studio was to board up the 2 six foot windows, one of which looked out over a wonderful landscape. But this is essentially a photography darkroom and I require lighting that I can completely control. This helps with my photography work but I do miss natural light on a day to day basis. The things we sacrifice for our art!

Susan's studio is just the opposite - flooded with light from skylights and one entire wall of large windows overlooking the valley. Must be why she has a cheerier disposition!


Susan responded to the same questions:


What works best for you about your current studio space?

My studio is just a few yards from the house - separate yet close enough to reach in just a moment. I love that the light pours in from all directions and that it is surrounded by gardens, apple trees, a chicken coop, bird houses, and in the summer, bees and butterflies!

It's also just big enough that I can hold classes here.

What one thing would you change about your current studio space?

It is just one big room. I wish I had a storage room that was separate, and I definitely wish it were bigger. When I hold classes I have to put away paintings I've been working on and clean up my messes, and often I misplace things in the process. While I'm wishing, I might as well wish for a room for classes and a separate room to paint in.


“For some artists the studio becomes a temple, a place invested with a sacred energy. You walk in and your thinking changes…It is your temple, the place where you focus your energies to express yourself. Your creative home base.” – Ian Roberts, Creative Authenticity

Would you care to comment on that?

It is definitely my experience that my studio is my temple, my sanctuary. In my studio I am surrounded by the things I have chosen, from arts and crafts to books and a boundless array of art supplies. So it is both a comfortable and comforting and stimulating environment. I usually have a variety of projects out on every surface, new art materials, paintings in progress, my sketchbooks and art books lying around. I often turn on music when I enter, choosing the playlist which matches my mood. When students are coming I generally prepare the atmosphere by placing flowers on my altar, putting on soft music and preparing a meditation for them. The private space then becomes a space of shared creativity, and the air sparkles with that energy after they leave.

Thank you Bob and Susan, for inviting us to tour your creative spaces!

Continuing on the creative theme, I found a very creative video allowing us to walk around inside Vincent Van Gogh’s painting, Starry Night. You can see it here.

Out On A Limb

This is another scanned section of the Old Bones Painting, by Leslie Avon Miller

It takes a lot of guts for me to paint in nearly back and white, with a bit of grey, beige and brown. It takes a lot of guts to post paintings and collage on my blog that “break” so many design “rules”. It takes a lot of guts for me to follow this series along where it leads. I think my Muse has an astute wickedness about her, although she defies being defined or categorized. She is too individualized for that and she is fiercely creative and independent. And I think she laughs right out loud when I take delight and stand back from a delicious texture appearing on the surface of my work. She isn’t easy on me. And of course, I have to honor her, because I choose to and I know she has something to give me from all of this. I just don’t know what it might be.

I had a teacher in the 7th grade like that - Mrs. Smith. She really forced us to learn the parts of speech, and the elements of writing. She wasn’t very nice about it, and she was strict. She didn’t let us get away with “good enough.” It had to be correct. Remember diagramming sentences? Thanks to her, I have the skills to be able to write a decent sentence and to have the guts to also break those rules when it serves my purpose. For instance, the use of an occasional sentence fragment. For effect.

I have on occasion had the thought “I don’t use realistic subject matter, I don’t use color, I don’t use much contrast, I don’t use known, traditional compositions, and I don’t use much variety। I do use a lot of unity and texture। Could I make this any more difficult?”

It’s not like I don’t know the rules; I really do. I don’t know why the muse is leading me out on this limb….I keep thinking that this severely restricted color palette will run its course and I will move to something else, but the limb keeps stretching out before me….

I have been enjoying all the great comments and questions you have been leaving of late. So I’m going to address them in this post, rather than the pop up window of comments. After all, there is a conversational element to the enjoyment of blogging.

When I get to New Zealand and Australia with Kurt and Derrick as my traveling companions, I will definitely be up for all experiences including a secret sister Aussie initiation and a “chiko roll”, which I hope is vegan if it something to be consumed….

Mating and framing. What an issue. I had a 22 by 30 inch piece on heavy water color paper framed professionally once, and decided I better learn to do it myself. A local frame shop owner retired and we were fortunate to buy her professional (manual not computerized) mat cutter, her wall hung glass and straight edge cutter, frame tables, and other assorted odds and ends. The mat cutter lives in the mud room, protected by a cloth, and a barrier of empty cardboard boxes so no one sets anything on it. The space is too small to really use the cutter. The wall hung cutter is hung on the wall of the bedroom that was once the studio. I use it all the time to cut paper and mat board on the straight edge. The framing tables are in pieces awaiting installation in the new studio, which awaits insulation in the high ceilings and then drywall….in other words, I can’t really mat and frame yet, because the equipment is not set up. But yes, I yearn to mat and frame the small collage. The larger birch pieces, which Kurt makes for me, hang on the wall just as they are. Same with the gallery wrapped canvas he is learning to do.

Yes, there is an element here of rawness as well as darkness and light to the Old Bones and the Big Rocks. Thanks for putting those words to it. There is a lot of collage on the Old Bones piece. I don’t think there is any on the Big Rocks piece. Both pieces have been through a few incarnations in their process to be where they are today. As for textures; I have been creating textures for a long while now, and I pretty much know what I am going to get. There is an element of “accident” because it is not a tightly controlled process, which suits me, but I know which technique will give me which texture. And I do experiment and discover new things. I use a lot of acrylic paint, both liquid and heavy body. I use some water color, some inks, crayon D’arch, occasional pastels, graphite pencils, markers, and oil pastels (I love Sennelier oil pastels, as they are butter soft.) I have undoubtedly left out something in this list. Sometimes I use a lot of transfers. I put pigments on with a wide variety of techniques including my fingers, sticks of wood, bamboo skewers, rags, papers of many varieties and sometimes even a paint brush. I take some pigment back off with alcohol, sand paper, rubbing, more reverse transfers. Sometimes I work with my eyes closed, to get closer to intuitive gesture.

I don’t often varnish my work. I should explore that more. I know that Margaret had a list of how to do this at her blog, including spraying a mixture of mediums thinned down with water. I want to try that. That would keep graphite from smearing. Some times I put a mixture of cold wax and Gamblin Galkyd oil as the last layer. I have tried the faux encaustic recipe written by Golden Acrylics. I would love to find new ways to write on my work also.

I believe the Universe has great plans for us, and does smile on us. I think coaching helps us see, believe, and be brave. I love coaching. I love to be coached and the muse is clearly a fan of coaching. I believe that if you have read this whole post, you have read a lot! I’m off to the studio….the muse calls.

The Muse is Happy

Big Rocks is a possible title, by Leslie Avon Miller


Old Bones by Leslie Avon Miller

What a great day this was. I started my day fully focused on creativity. I had a number of phone conversations with artists who I admire and appreciate. I was honored to coach a few artists working in calibration with the artist. The benefits of previous sessions were celebrated, and visions even more expanded. It is truly thrilling to hear about success, and the ease with which it flows when we are working in alignment with our values, or as we sometimes say around here, in alignment with the Big Rocks. It’s like the universe steps out half way to meet us at the place of our dreams.

I feel expanded, open, flowing, enthused, and delighted! It is better than Christmas.
To be witness and co-facilitator for the expansion of creative visions and dreams, happening right now, and coming into to being as we speak, is a tremendous thrill and a gift to me.

So, from that kind of energy I went to the studio, and worked on the Old Bones paintings. I have been adding layers, and making changes to these paintings, trying to bring forth my vision. I am frustrated however, by photography. I am going to have to learn how to use the newer SLR camera. I just can’t get a good enough photo with the little camera.

So I scanned these images. Since the paintings are on birch, and measure 20 inches by 20 inches, they are much too big for the scanner. So what you see here are cropped portions of the work. I wanted to show you the deep texture that I just can’t capture with the small camera. The Big Rocks painting is the one I wrote on with a graphite pencil which I talked about in my Moodle post.

I think I should clarify my last post. I don’t actually have the ways and means to take my work shop (currently in development) to Australia or New Zealand. I am letting the universe know that’s something I would like to do. I could hold onto that idea and never make it happen. So I decided to say it out loud as an intention. It is a great dream, goal, idea, and vision. Now I am making myself accountable to make it happen.