Lonnie Lardner – Page 50

Find Your Moment – Improve Your Day

May 27, 2013 by Lonnie Lardner

It’s as easy as stepping outside. (Photo by Josh Kaplan)

I have a confession to make. I was wrong. Totally wrong. When I launched this blog 2 years ago, one of the first posts I wrote was about carving out 10 minutes a day to feed your creative soul.

I got up on my high horse and said that anyone – everyone — could find ten minutes a day to do the thing he or she loved most. I was wrong. I am in the middle of a corporate consulting project that is requiring all my waking hours, and I haven’t painted in weeks.

The work is creative, exciting and satisfying. But I face many hours of pure paperwork, detailed budgets, cost analysis, and insane deadlines. The stuff I hate. And because of those hours hunched over my laptop – inside and alone — I was beginning to go a little ultram nutty.

Then it hit me, I may not have 10 minutes to drag out the paints and create something interesting — but that doesn’t mean I can’t create a little oasis within the confines of the tasks I’m facing.

I grabbed my laptop, my chai tea, my folders, and my cats, and simply moved my headquarters — out to the patio. Suddenly, with the sun shining down, the bougainvillea in bloom, and the cats pitching in, the assignment I was dreading morphed into a little moment of bliss.

I’ve written a lot of posts about the need for artists to change their perspective: turn up into down, whole into parts, black into white. But this little exercise taught me it is just as important to do that with my attitude. By turning my life’s canvas upside down I found underneath it the one thing that always helps: gratitude.

Done preaching – my spreadsheets await.

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall….

April 30, 2013 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Household Mirrors: Reflective teachers. (Photo by Josh Kaplan)

Creatively stuck? Let the mirror do the work.

I swear, every time I work on a painting, there’s that point where I just don’t know if it’s a hit or miss. I’m on track for a while, and then suddenly I think, “this really sucks.”

Next stop: The bathroom. Not for the reason you think – but for the aid of a 6000 year-old invention first discovered by the Turks. The typical household “looking glass” has become my most sobering art critic – and as a result, best friend. Many a night I seek her frank advice, and she always pulls through. All I have to do is hold up my work (painting, drawing, or sculpture) right in front of her – and look. You barely have to ask her a question – because her reflection tells you the story.

Mirrors give us a set of fresh eyes.

Reversing the image is almost like seeing a brand new painting because your brain sees it differently. This new view gives you some space and perspective. In fact, facing the mirror, you are doubling the viewing distance you’d normally have between you and the work. It is remarkable how that changes everything. You suddenly see problems with composition, a weak focal point, and flaws in technique.

Mirrors are also there to see if we are looking at the work the right way. I can’t tell you how many times I have flipped the painting upside down and discovered it is way better that way. I usually start right side up, and turn it to see all four angles. You may be surprised to see more than one painting emerge – and ideas for additional works or series.

Bottom line: this is a really effective method of kickstarting your mojo in the middle of your creative hell. Watch how motivated you feel after seeing your “new” work. It’s a jolt right back to the drawing table where you can immediately act on the visual cues shared by your intuitive new best friend. It’s a simple, inexpensive way to keep the flow going and benefit from the direction of a pro — you.

Hearing Colors, Tasting Shapes – OMG I Have Synesthesia!

March 31, 2013 by Lonnie Lardner

Intertwining time and color: a glimpse into the mind of a synesthete. Acrylic painting on panel, “Skittles” by Crystal Michaelson, Los Angeles

It’s a condition I’ve had my entire life. I just didn’t know there was a name for it.

As far back as kindergarten, I can remember explaining to my parents that I saw the days of the week IN COLOR. I was very exact about which day represented a specific color – or combination of colors. The pairings have always been the same. The list rolls off my tongue as fast today as it did when I was just learning to talk. And it looks like this:

I remember my parents asking me to recite the list of days and corresponding colors for friends.”Tell them, Lon” they would say. “Tell them how you see the days of the week in color.” I’d recite the list for whomever the audience was that day – making sure they knew that Tuesday wasn’t just any gray – but a very specific shade of gray mailbox. When they heard that Friday was a very exact striping of black and white, they looked puzzled. And by the time burnt sienna rolled around for Sunday, they didn’t quite know what to think.

I’ve shared my quirky view of time and color with many friends and colleagues over the years – and I’m usually met with a quizzical antibiotics face. Well, after a little research I’ve discovered I’m not alone.

What is synesthesia?

Synesthesia is a condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, i.e., the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of a color. It comes from the Greek words, syn (together) and aisthesis (perception) = “joined perception.”

Experts say the most common form – colored letters and numbers – occurs when someone always sees a certain color in response to a certain letter of the alphabet or number. For example, a synesthete (a person with synesthesia) might see the word “plane” as mint green or the number “4” as dark brown. There are also synesthetes who hear sounds in response to smell, who smell in response to touch, or who feel something in response to sight. Just about any combination of the senses is possible.

Over 60 types of synesthesia have been reported, but only a fraction have been evaluated by scientific research. Of course it is possible that, as my husband suggests, we’re all just “a little nuts.”

So next time you see a city skyline, and you taste blueberries, maybe you hear a violin and you feel itchy on your left foot, or you finally come to terms with seeing Thursdays as lollipop red – call me. It’s lonely out here.