Online encaustic classes

Are Artists Always Young?

Under my high school yearbook picture, an unknown editor wrote, “Artists are always young.” At that time, I couldn’t imagine being old or even consider myself an artist. In my last post, I shared how long it took me to claim to the world—and to myself—that I was worthy of being labeled an artist. In recent years, I’ve begun to see some truth in that saying. As working artists, we are never finished; there are always the next painting to create, more techniques to explore, and so much more to experience in the realm of art. As the years of my life accumulate, I often hear, “You are an inspiration.” This always makes me pause and reflect, “Why?” I used to feel a twinge of resentment, thinking, “Why? Just because of my age? Just because I get out of bed every morning and have been for many years? Are you surprised that I can still function, take care of myself, drive, create, teach, and embrace life with joy?” Lately, I’ve come to understand that I am being perceived as an old woman. Could it be because I am? Are we so programmed to believe that someone over 70 is only capable of taking up space? I am here to prove that, whether an artist or not, living a long, full life is a gift filled with wonderful and heartbreaking experiences, joy and pain, light and dark. Aging has given me the opportunity to realize that all we have is this day, this moment to live and see each occurrence in life as a chapter in my earthly story. The lifetime of memories are just that, memories. More and more, I ask myself, “What did I learn from each experience?” I am playing my part in this play and may I play it well, lovingly, kindly and always learning. My mother often said, “Learn something new every day.” In this fast-paced world, the longer I live, the more I learn—much more than just one thing each day. I manage all my social media, my blog, website, Facebook postings, online galleries, as well as posting my meanderings on Substack. I take time everyday to find peace and joy in my meditations and prayer. And gratitude! Living in Mexico allows me to afford healthcare, which is crucial as I finally recognize and accept the cellular decay my body is experiencing. Fresh fruit and vegetables are plentiful. I have been a vegetarian for almost 50 years and the only drawback I experience is that I have to shop more often. Just this morning, as I drove back from my monthly acupuncture appointment, I felt happy and blessed to have a wonderful doctor who knows me and takes the time for deep conversations. We talked about color healing, Qi gong and the details about opening all the channels in the body that can be blocked…And I can afford the charge. When I choose to see ​allopathic doctors, I am impressed with the treatment and care. Through offering my encaustic workshops, I meet the most wonderful people who choose to experience encaustic painting under my guidance. I am invigorated by sharing all that I know about painting with fire and hot wax. Each person brings their own questions and energy. In the most resent private class the participant admitted that she had challenges with color, so I could focus on expanding her adventure with color balance and composition. This not only enriches my life but also contributes to my income, allowing me to live comfortably in my little flower-covered casita with a separate studio. 2 1/2 years ago I moved from a large home that I shared with another artist. It had 2 studios, my viewing room, big kitchen - lots of inside space and grounds to a perfect small sunny cottage. Living alone, my time is my own. I eat dinner at 4:30 most days, have hours of quiet and the studio is just a few steps from my front door. This post does not include a portion of my memoir about my big move to Mexico 21 years ago. This is about my life here now. I am grateful for this opportunity to grow in understanding of life in a different culture and of myself as an artist and and peaceful, happy woman. What is an artist’s lifespan in actual years on earth? There is no expiration date on creativity unless we decide to stop creating. I know more about my artistic progression, style, and voice than ever before. Looking back on more than 65 years of work, I find it interesting and sometimes surprising. The different styles, techniques, stories - I always have a story for each painting, I realize that a whole lifetime may not be enough to explore everything I want to discover. Ultimately, the quality of an artist’s work depends on dedication, openness to fresh ideas, and being true to our personal expression—not our age. Sometimes, it takes a lifetime. Another reminder: Someday is now. The recent photo is of me with my new great grand daughter and my grandson.

Am I really an artist?

Picasso said, “every child is born an artist” meaning children are naturally creative, uninhibited, and expressive. The second part of the quote; “The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up,” suggests that judgment and thoughtless criticism can stifle this innate creativity and block us the rest of our lives. Were you told to “stay within the lines and focus on more practical aspects of life?” I was! My father said, “What good is art? You can’t eat it or wear it.” However,finally I have accepted the fact that I am an artist. It was was a childhood dream and ambition of my life time to say, “I am an artist.” Apparently​ I believed it was a far off aspiration that I had to earn. One just couldn’t say “I am an artist” without creating brilliant, perfect works of art and being accepted in important art communities. Making lots of money selling my art would certainly prove that I deserved this magical title. When I was just a child, I remember going into an art supply store and asking for “lamp black watercolor for transparent washes” I probably didn’t know anything about transparent washes, but I loved acting as if I did. I drew and drew,especially people. In a earlier post I shared that I almost didn’t make it into 6th grade because of ignoring the arithmetic assignments, I spent my days drawing my classmates. ( I am so old that math was called arithmetic) After years of attending art schools, getting my FAA degree, countless gallery shows, teaching hundreds of creative students both privately an in a university, I still didn’t feel that I was a legitimate artist. Thinking in terms of author Malcolm Gladwell’s proverbial 10,000 hours, which suggests that one achieves a certain degree of excellence only after so many hours and years of practice in a discipline, (I know that I have put in more than 10,000 hours.) This requires a person to hone their talents to such a degree that the necessary motor skills become instinctual, ​relying more one’s own intuitive powers. This is what I share in my workshops. I want to encourage the participants to “feel” the creative process rather than intellectualize it. Finally, I recognized that I have always been an artist in this life and have been developing my creative and mental qualities over time, constantly wanting to reach new artistic heights, share with others, both students and collectors. ’ve come to know that we who are involved in the arts for any period of time can experienced moments of inspiration. At this point, it can feel as though something has been handed to you. I have had students, both young and mature, be completely surprised by the outcome. That is such a a rewarding experience! I love sharing all that I know. Last week I was blessed by a delightful workshop participant who booked a one day private class. She said, “I am not an artist” I was motivated to prove to her that she just needed to trust her instincts and feel what she was doing instead of using her intellect. This is what she created that day

Sharing wisdom and experience

Color has always held deep significance for me. Having studied its effect on the emotions and the body for many years, I was surprised when Sherwin-Williams announced Khaki as the color of the year. It’s not a color I would ever choose instinctively — so I turned to AI to understand its symbolic meaning: “The word ‘khaki’ comes from a Persian word for ‘dust’ or ‘soil.’ It refers to an earthy, neutral, muted shade — typically yellowish-brown or brownish-green. Khaki is associated with nature, practicality, reliability, and military origins. It symbolizes a connection to the earth, functionality, and understated strength, while also conveying calmness and grounding qualities.” I understand the collective need for calm and centeredness — especially as we witness the ever-growing chaos in the world. It’s difficult not to feel fear, anger, or frustration, particularly if you’re constantly exposed to the news. But... khaki? Last week, I became acutely aware of my aging. Sometimes, even now, I’m startled by how old I am. The changes in my body are undeniable. A question lingered in my mind: Am I just taking up space on this earth? Still, I packed a large suitcase full of encaustic paints, tools, and supplies to lead a program at the Exploring & Manifesting the Creative Self retreat. I printed out Qigong materials and brought my Sacred Women Tarot cards for the “Intuition” sessions I was scheduled to lead. I was nudged out of my comfortable stay-at-home routine, joining a group of 13 women. We stayed at the same hotel, shared beautiful meals, and slowly opened up to one another. My heart expanded with each conversation. On the first day, I introduced myself, shared what I’d be teaching — and mentioned my age. That certainly got their attention. People are often surprised I’m still walking around, let alone teaching hot wax painting! It was a joy to lead the first early morning Qigong practice, offer tarot card readings after lunch, and introduce the group to the magic of painting with fire in the afternoons. The next morning, we began with Yogananda’s energizing exercises, followed by a color meditation, and more hands-on encaustic work. The hot wax painting was a hit. Seems as if I still have something to share. One woman told me it was her favorite part of the entire retreat. She said, “Ezshwan, you have to come back next year.” I replied, “If I’m still here…” She frowned. “Don’t say that.” But she doesn’t yet realize — what peace and love are waiting for us on the other side. <

New series of encaustic paintings

another ceracolor portrait SD 480p

Encaustic Academy SD 480p