The Power of Every Day And The Power of Pink

Pink has always been my favorite color. 
Since I was about eight years old it had to be. I had arrived late for school (even then), but happened to walk into our teacher telling us about the meanings of colors. 

'Red signifies love and passion. White represents honor, honesty, purity, truth. PINK is the combination of these colors so it means love and truth.'

That's the abbreviation of how I remember it, but I was sold. I love so many things and constantly struggle making a fucking decision so this color enabled to me to have more things as my favorite color (2-for-1!) I have since learned that red can also mean fortune, anger, aggression, depending on where you are. White also means innocence, surrender, virginity(?)... again depending on who you are, where you are and what you're doing. 

Pink also represents femininity (Mary is often represented wearing blue, so I can assume pink is for us more experienced). In branding we have pink on bras, barbies, breasts, babies. I use pink because I find it playful, and I do believe it encompasses all of these qualities as I believe we as people are capable, and whether we like it or not experience the gamut. I also quite loved the Pink Power Ranger (played by Amy Jo Johnson in the 90's). As a child, I understood beauty through Disney Princesses (Cinderella/Sleeping Beauty... ps see the live action Cinderella and look at THAT color symbolism), and through music (Sue Medley, Shawn Colvin, Emm Gryner, Annie Lennox, Tori Amos), and then through the Pink Ranger, that girl power fire... later exemplified in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now these artists and figures, some I know or have had the privilege of meeting, but they are not in my life (well Cinderella is in us all), but I am fortunate to have this strong woman archetype in many women in my life... first is my Mom. She is an artist manager, a teacher, a guide, a gatherer. She is smart and intuitive and brilliant. I could go on, and the list of these women is rather endless. Either I need them or they need me or both but I am blessed with really wonderful ladies that I absolutely love and adore and I keep meeting them and they sparkle my life with magic.

Last week was The Power of Pink, the bi-annual fundraiser for Breast Health. It is a group show, in which each designer presents 6 looks and a finale piece (7 total) worn by a breast cancer survivor, a Champion. 

It was my honor that my Champion was my friend Leah. She has been close friends with my aunt for a long time. I first met them when her husband and my uncle were making beer together. I babysat their kids. Leah has always been warm and kind and grateful with me. Our whole family prayed when she was diagnosed and all through her treatment plans. I am so proud of her. There's a quality that survivors possess: a kind of ego-less determination and devotion to gratitude and a pure enjoyment of every moment and relationship. 

#easiersaidthandone

Now it's been a couple days since the show. I've slept and come back with a kind of readiness and gratitude I have not felt before. Sometimes after doing a big show, a wave of dark blue comes over me. It's called post-show-depression. Kind of like postpartum but different. I think it comes if you're not paid enough, or somewhere something was spent or given that was not appreciated properly. I did not experience this. I am so glad that everything happened the way it did. A friend once said, 'have a plan for the day after' and that has been really helpful. I also feel like the work is not done, I'm pricing and planning the next phase for these pieces, and unlike my past shows they all have really good patterns. I am really proud of the collection which you can see at bymatthewdonnelly.com. 

I was glad to have my family there, and my art teacher. So let's keep it going and herein lies the power of every day: the mystery secret: do it. Do it every day. I have been making a little reading, a little writing and a little drawing a part of my every day. It's not all publishable, rather it's quite private, but it's my meditation and it is as important as it is difficult. So whatever you gotta do- do you and it.

That said- I need to take this moment to thank all the people that helped make this show happen for me:

My Mom- Marian- worked on shoes that didn't get used, paid for some materials, fed me, drove me places, and was there, despite my agitations and ridiculous ideas.
Michelle- Happy Birthday and you're awesome. Thank you for shoes and pictures and labels
Laura- Your friendship, fusing, and dressing is the greatest gift.
Kelly- Every button counts! And thank you for your sewing machine
Tom- Thank you for the garage, the saw, and being on the team
My Grandparents- I'm on my way to clean up your basement
Dean Renwick- this man is a rock for me and he's brilliant. 
Mrs. Hartnell- Thank you for the serger
And
This collection would not have happened without the magic, beauty and kindness that is:
Alla- what a dream you were to work with. Thank you endlessly ;)

Also big thanks to Saundra Jones of Tangled Pixel for rebranding me. And Lisa Marie Schwartz of Edge Agency for forever having your shit together amongst all the designers that are on gay time and designer time (which is double). The models. And of course Pam Klein, the founder of the night that helps bring a lot of great people together. Check it out: Power of Pink.

Me and my Champion

Both photos by Michelle Brownride xxx

The Wolf and The Robin

Madness is the most disgraceful thing for a creature of the wild

-Rudyard Kipling (The Jungle Book)

Having landed in Regina, the last two nights, I have had horrible dreams. Scary dreams in which I'm being chased, either as the little mermaid, or like last night with Sandra Bullock. But I am pretty sure it pertains to the fact that I am home, staying with my grandmother, one of the truest examples of unconditional and God-supported love I have ever seen. She has instilled in all of us the mantra that 'there is always room for one more.' 

She's in front of me now, cleaning out the fridge, expressing how she hates it. I offer help and she replies 'it's ok, it's Good Friday, my penance for the day.' She pulls out the Spiralina powder I brought in a Rainbow Peppercorns jar, asking what's this- I explain it's sort of seaweed related powder that's really good for you, but tastes a little weird, 'ok you can keep it.'

It's a sense of comfort, a state of self, and in my surroundings, that I'm simply not used to anymore. When I moved to New York I started sleeping with my hands gripped closed. I'd wake up with sweaty palms that hurt from clenching my fingers into my hands so hard. That means I was holding onto things (situations, ideas) way too tightly. Whenever you hold on too tight, letting go becomes not only inevitable but imperative. (Choice: lose it, or release it)

Pema Chodron illustrates in Taking The Leap the fable of the two wolves, the wolf of kindness and the wolf of aggression, and you only have enough food to feed one. Who will win? The wolf you choose to feed. I think we have many wolves within us, as we are wild creatures. I have a wolf of art, dedication, fashion, family, and a wolf of addiction, narcissism, procrastination, the wallowing wolf of resistance. 

Yesterday, my first full day in Regina, a ready-set-go sort of day in which I was to set up my grandparents basement to finish building my Power of Pink collection. I allowed myself a couple hours to clean it up and make it mine. That is important, but there came a point where I realized I could continue cleaning and organizing for another 3 hours before I actually did anything. It was tough. I took a moment to read a little and then put on some netflix (Buffy, a very empowering show for myself) and bam.

I had a similar experience in the summer of 2013. I was home in Regina, just after celebrating my friends wedding, and so excited to be home to celebrate my Grandpa's 85th birthday. It was a chill day at our cottage, where I was probably still pretending to be The Little Mermaid, when I got the call from my uncle John in Vancouver to help with his daughter's show that they were developing as a family. I went, and it was ready-set-go make this jacket! I finished it about 5 minutes before I had to go to the airport, but it's pretty special.

My cousin, Naomi Dorras Donnelly, plays Robin Redcoat, the central character of Rockin' Robin & The Magical Tree! (Can you guess that I made the red coat? My aunt Joy, one of the funniest women ever, made her fascinator) Set in a magical tree forest, she has other bird friends that come to tell stories in the best way: through song, dance, animation and magic. 

Rockin Robin is releasing every week a song leading up to their MAY 19 cd release. It will be on itunes, so buy it! They are represented by Nettwerk Records (that's Sarah McLachlan's record label) and she's distributed internationally by Sony BMG. It is a fantastic concept, one I am very proud to be a part of. This is the bonus side of my job as an artist with a medium of clothing.

So please check out all the videos, all the social media. Like everything! Follow the tweets! And enjoy. I'm off to sew!

Website: www.rockinrobinshow.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/RockinRobinShow

Twitter! 

Youtube! 

And here is their first live-action video, just released yesterday! (she's wearing the coat)

'The Luxury of Self-Examination'

I am on a lonely road and I am travelling,

travelling, 

travelling

-Joni Mitchell

A Great Canadian Adventure has begun.

From New York to Canadia's capital, Ottawa, this past March 26... we celebrated Alice's birthday. For those that read this, that don't know, though most of you know me or have seen my facebook littered with pictures of a blond girl that looks like my sister... she is one of the greatest platonic loves of my life. Everything I make generally in some way or another goes past her.  Everything I do generally gets told to her or is with her, and what is separate still holds a link of togetherness and love that  surprises, delights, frustrates and ignites me. She's a rock of inspiration. Woody to my Buzz (that's a Toy Story reference)

Now she's back in New York working on her genius, and I'm hanging with my superstar aunt. I'm off to Regina, Saskatchewan on April 1. That's a 3 hour drive from where Joni Mitchell was born. 

I'm presenting a small collection on April 16, as one of the designers featured in The Power of Pink. This is an amazing event, a bi-annual fundraiser for breast cancer. It is it's 10th anniversary and 5th show. I have been apart of 3 of them. The first one I was in grade 12 at LeBoldus High school. That means I've been out of high school for 10 years. 

At 28, feeling every discombobulation of a Saturn Return, I feel one part very old and one part like I'm still 13 in a slightly oversized coat that I'm waiting to grow into. That's part of why I do so many self portraits, or draw parts of myself. I've always found bodies, people, figures so much more interesting than plants or inanimate objects (not saying plants don't have life-they do) but I'm interested in the figure. I'm interested in the way I draw myself and other people. I like drawing all the lines and seeing how they are pronounced, how I perceive myself, how I perceive people- it's a physical experience of understanding how I feel in a time. It's also a practice of my craft that is basic and important. If it's been a while since drawing something, or I feel the pressure to suddenly draw a masterpiece (which usually ensures I will produce something really shitty) I go back to grade 9 art class, and a contour drawing of my hand.

Read, write, draw. 

Back to basics.

Back to my first real show, 10 years later.

Back home. 

Saturn returns.

I am so excited to show you the things that are being worked on. There's a few other projects to promote along the way. 

After Regina, I hit up Toronto May 3-5, and then back to the Apple.

A big part of this journey, this adventure, like any return, my own personal retrograde, is heal up. Not to imply I am wounded, but rather get brave. Get strong. Our physical selves change as we change and  though you may not see it the way you see a wrinkle, or the growth spurt of a child, there's always something going on and our bodies and hearts need attention... and it's easy to forget or let an aspect slip when your 'run' is to the next train. You need to work as much as you need to play. And you need to rest as much as you need to get excited. 

I'm re-reading The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. It's his quote that is the title of this blog. And while I quoted Joni's All I Want at the top, and loneliness is my love/hate friend, I am aware that I am not on this road alone. I am on my own path, but I am not alone. I have great friends and family on my side, and you're part of that in simply reading this. Art, fashion, the process of self-examination, expression, documentation is only possible when we are not hunting for food or building our shelters. Isabel Marant said very poignantly in a New York Mag interview, 'I have to live with myself.' I am an artist. I am not a hunter. My contribution to the tribe is my work, and I hope it provides thought and understanding and expression to and of the self. So feel good. Contribute. Know your power and use it with love.

Pencil with coffee on the stairs 9x12"

Heart In Hand

Many lessons of the how the human heart works this week. 
Well, more accurately would be what the human mind does when the heart is activated differently and waking up to the bat-shit crazy things we do around it.

In the brilliant show, Married With Children, Peg and Al get into a disagreement around shaving, so she withholds sex until he will shave. She explains to the neighbor, Marcy (also going through this problem) that 'when a man gets aroused, all the blood from the brain rushes down. Now the brain wants that blood back, and it will do anything it can to get it.'

Now, in this tinder age, of scruff boys grindring, we flip through profiles after profiles reading a person's basic descriptions or viewing a cropped pic, a mere glimpse of an identity, which may or may not be real. It's a practice, habit, or past-time, in many ways convenient, but also unnatural. The biggest downside, besides the auto-judge, is we become disposable.

I am not disposable.
You are not disposable.

Behind that screenshot selfi profile is a person, with a family, a job, dreams- well hopefully he or she has these things. I do. But for whatever personal physical interest, sometimes a connection is made, sometimes not. But when a connection is made- what do you do?

You want to be cool, have end-game, be interested, but not too much, get mysterious, be unavailable. So many people have such low-self-esteems that if you're too nice, they're gonna leave you and go after that asshole that never calls them back. Then they become the asshole that doesn't call you back and you're trying to become more available, and ignoring someone nice that's vying for your attention. Do you see the pattern?

The chase is exciting, dramatic, like a work-out for the ego, to get buffed, bruised, and then come back up again. But this cycle really only involves the chase. How do you play it cool, not put on any pressure to the person, the situation, but say what you want? Be guarded, but open? Protect yourself but actually let someone in?

The chase is exciting, and fun, and sometimes you want to just be a free spirit slut and be sexual or play with it however you want. There's a power in that which should not be looked down upon- it should be allowed- it should be respected even. But if something is real, that should be respected, and enjoyed, and pushed forward, even if slowly.

I know I want to be wanted. I want to be someone's first choice. I want that person to be my first choice. Of course, you don't always want equally at the same time, and sometimes you go back to the chase to see if it really even is what you want, these points of comparison, which really are just distractions and ways of avoiding getting what you want for feelings of unworthiness. Or, I set up situations in which I am waiting, testing how much I am wanted. 'Just hit me up after work, after your movie, after your dinner.' Fuck that. Invite me to dinner, or the movie. or whatever. These tests though, they set up for failure, anxiety bubbles up in the waiting, making hurt inevitable. Suddenly there is so much pressure on if he will call you back or not. I am facing my trust issues. Ultimatums always equal an ending. 

There is also a huge discrepancy between the intentions and expectations of each person. We don't ever know what is really going on for the other person. He wants fun and I want love. That shit don't add up. That difference will be noted and felt. What do you want to do about it? 

The Captive

The hardest step is the one forward.
Remove the idea of right/wrong- but rather forward/backward.

One step familiar, a road seen, expectations known.

One step not just unknown, but overwhelming, and it's not a dark road, but quite bright- so bright it's blinding and that's what you can't see. We get so used to it the circumstances- the situations, even if we don't like them, their familiarity is comforting. 

Familiarity is not family. Family loves you, protects you, pushes you, wants you, needs you, expects things from you. Familiarity is merely an objective sensation of your habits that becomes comfortable and safe. Even if you're constantly uncomfortable- your discomfort is safe and therefore comforting.

The bed, as comfortable as it may be, the weight of the duvet holds me like chains. Every item on the web of my to-do lists in their colors and bubbles and arrows work like stones hitting my head, knocking me down onto a pillow and keeping me there until so many hours have gone by, that the day only holds a sense of hopelessness and delirium. What was it worth? What did you get done?

The measure of one person's day who might wake up early, go to the gym, go to work, eat three meals, enjoy a film at night; or one who sleeps in, berates himself, and then lifts his pen. As long as the pen gets lifted. It's impossible to measure these scenarios. One is not incapable of the other. The work of both has the capacity to be equally shitty and equally brilliant. Sometimes the accomplishment necessary is not the work- sometimes it is just to get out of the bed, or get the groceries. Maybe all we need is a walk, with grass and trees. Measure the beauty of our existence.

The beauty of a tree, the design of the bark, the vein of the leaves. The beauty of a condo, matching windows, glass into the sky, people inhabiting them, entitled to their property. 

Measure forward and backward. How to get to where and what you want. Without judgement, on yourself or anyone, take the step.

The Great Gift

How many dishes can you do before writing a single word?



One of the best episodes of The Simpsons is 'Snow Day' in which Bart prays for an extra day to do his book report... overnight it snows and a snow day is called- every one is off school and out playing, and as Bart is rushing out to join, Lisa solemnly reminds him that this day is here for him to use, to do his book report. Bart turns around, and accomplishes the report. Mrs. Krabappel still fails him- and Bart cries, understanding the feelings of the characters in the book. In his genuine feelings, his teacher realizes Bart had done the work and she changes his grade and he passes. 

The given time we have to do anything is a precious gift. The time in education and training, with friends and family, with lovers, with those that antagonize us, and with ourselves.

We need time alone, for rest and rejuvenation. We need to exercise and to pray. We need eat and sleep. We need hugs and kisses. We need to make our art.

Time expands and shrinks and plays jokes. Time helps and pushes us allows to do what we must do. Time always shows its own precious nature.

Time throws me in obsessive tornadoes- as much as I can multitask, I am a very focused person. I can get easily distracted, but I can return to my focus. There is a danger though when the distractions become my focus- and then the space of time between connecting with the focus and the distraction grows, inflates. My art then gets trapped inside a bubble that I can't get into, or don't allow myself to get into. I just keep the bubble shiny and expanding while I do the dishes.

Bubbles collide and the gentlest touch can burst them. In any moment.

I found out on February 10 that my friend and teacher, the artist Michelle Sereda, was killed in a car accident outside of Regina. I remove myself from the world when these tragedies come. This woman, as has been described by many that knew her, better than I, was so completely and genuinely herself, in her body, in her artist. She was beautiful and devoted to creating, to teaching movement and creation, and in Canada. Her light was so bright, you treasured the moments you got to see her and became intoxicated by this magic. 

Michelle taught me a drama course when I was a kid. It was the first course that I really found my breath, where the movement exercises actually connected me to my body. Mind, Body, Spirit alignment. It was also the first time I got to be a merman as a character. How did she know she was awakening and liberating a whole other universe in me?

These lessons, these treasures, my teachers, they are me. Losing a teacher, feels like a part of my home has been ripped. And while I know her light is not gone, but transcended, it is a loss I mourn, but will honor. 

I have had great teachers and I am filled with their love and wisdom and the gift of being taught by them. 

I am blessed, so grateful to have what I have, and the way I pay these gifts forward is my work, my art, these words. I hope they inspire you.


Art begat Art. Feed the right wolf. 

And please, if you are in New York... please! See these shows if you can:

One Day- The Musical
https://www.facebook.com/OneDayTheMusical

The Absolute Brightness of Leonard Pelkey

Check them out and support them, they are by very dear friends who are incredibly talented. They are both different and very important to our time.

Love.
M

Growing Up

What a week!

Happy New Year.

Happy new day. It's Saturday and I've cleaned my bathroom and made breakfast and lunch. It's funny how nostalgically I make food. Peanut butter banana sandwich, one side peanut butter one side butter. It's changed a little as to what the peanut butter is and what the butter is and I mostly drink almond milk. Though I did make my almond milk chocolate. 

Even how I clean my bathroom: I always start with the mirror, then the sink, the toilet, the tub, the floor. then i have a shower to get the cleaning supply lotion off and christen the new clean room with a shower for myself. Like a good job shower. 

Then I mailed a letter! 

The whole experience of this is funny to me because it's like playing an adult. In many ways I am an adult, pretty self-sufficient, I have a business, I work hard, I do my best to pay my bills as on time as I possibly can even though I often forget and I'm really sorry... it's like I'm seven with a t-shirt on my head, playing Cinderella, playing house, playing whatever. It's  fun most of the time. But then there are situations like this week in which I was working on updating my resume and realized I had no idea what I was doing.

I have done a lot of work, but formatting it into 2 pages to put my best foot forward or even just document things in a way that makes sense is really difficult. It's really adult and I realize I'm just not that comfortable with it.

I like to draw and paint and make things for people; how do you tax that?

This blog is right now a means of procrastination against completing some of these tasks at hand. They get so big they don't happen which makes things worse. Like even writing a blog entry. I write a good one and then the pressure to write another one just as good worries me to the point of not writing at all. Then there's a block because I'm not even practicing, making the next round that much more difficult.

But with a big deep breath and a break down into steps and particles and just fucking doing the thing even if it's under the wire of a deadline is better than nothing. Fake it til you make it. Or just fucking make it and then it's done.

I had a deadline on Thursday for a collection proposal. I am so excited about it. I'm excited for this new direction and I'm excited to take a more adult approach to producing it. The catch is giving myself the openings to be the creative spirit I am, where there is no pressure- just honest art making. It's that playtime that makes the adult game more fun and less stressful. 

So I've set up some tricks for myself which I hope you enjoy and they're mostly on lovemattersfacebook so here are the links:

One fun one is posting Love songs. I love music, I live by it, so I'm sharing what I like in all their cheesy trashy fabulous poetic glory. The first was this Whitney gem:

The other is I've decided to draw my hand every day for the year. The album is 359 hands (I decided this on Jan 6). Check it out :)
359 Hands

There's more social media stuff to come!

Take a moment to play everyday.
Love.