✿ Hello friends ✿

Last night I saw the Strawberry Moon rise over the Atlantic ocean from the lifeguard tower in Biddeford Pool. Life is sweet and warm. As we enter this heatwave, I think back to January of last year. I’ve been feeling critical of myself and my journey, questioning the tangibility in progress, and fighting hard to trust myself.

As one does, I found a bit of wisdom in an Instagram post about the full moon, asking me what am I willing to devote my life to building? And most importantly, do I remember why I started in the first place?

As I chased the moon with Flo, fending off mosquitoes, catching glimpses of not only the fluorescent red moonrise, but the lingering soft glow of the sunset, I returned to my studio desk strengthened, unrushing. I opened my sketchbook to work and instantly felt drawn to start at the beginning, which is where I borrow my words from today, written on January 24th:

“Getting lost in love—in a good way, allowing its sweet indulgence and remembering all I am set to do. And will do. Be confident. And remember: to believe in the art. The paintings are a place to release fear, bare myself to fear. We make many paintings, we persist, and like days, not all of them will be good, but we show up to the paint, the paper, anyways. And they are there for us.

Today, I will begin the process on my large fabric painting. Remembering when I originally created that idea. I felt like my life was struck by a comet, and I laid there ready to let it consume me. I almost wanted the destruction to envelop me. I welcomed it because I had nothing else to give. Which sounds sad but I really think its about acceptance. Acceptance of the fate of life. The reality of loss and the reality that I am still here. And I think I started looking at the reality no longer in anger, but in reverence. The loss is devastating but what is worse, and hurts more, is living and looking away from it. So I laid myself beneath the falling sky and waited for the stars to fall around me. In them I saw myself. I saw my mother. I saw my grandmother. Amber. I saw everyone I did not know.

I want this painting to feel ancestral, cosmically connected. I will be patient. I will not work too quickly. It benefits me to move slowly. There are no mistakes because I always arrive where I need when I work at a pace that is right for me.”

This past month I had work up at River Tree Arts courtesy of Rebecca Cote and Rae Ingwersen. It was nice to let these works travel and breathe new life in company of other artists. These works will travel to Crotux at Garden Street Bowl and will be up from July through August. More details to come…

This summer I will have four paintings, and my two zines available through Little Death—a project, collective, roving gallery space dedicated to supporting local artists, run by Katia Dermott and Micah Sanders, based in Rockland.

Katia reached out to me to collaborate and while I wasn’t available for an in-person event right now, she was gracious to offer me the chance to show work through the summer. We selected four small paintings and two zines to offer through their online shop. Send support their way and keep an eye out for their events. Thank you, Little Death!

My ceramic process these days is slow. My vase above came out of the kiln and because I was using reclaim clay, the color is a bit gray, in the photo above looking almost blue/green. In some ways it compliments my vessel and glazed interior, but what I am really chasing is the warm red and brown tones. So I am pondering how I might be able to add some finishing touches by sanding or with paint… or both. I also threw off the hump for the first time which was an experience! It was a nice moment for my ego to work with five pounds of clay, which really is not much, but I typically only work with 2-3 lbs. Many of these little ramekins are for Indigo Oyster Co. to sell alongside their oysters at the Scarborough Farmer’s Market this summer.

I continue to imagine how I can work with these ceramic butterflies. I painted them with slip to create the texture and I believe painting them is actually how they will turn out, but the pieces to this puzzle haven’t completely come together yet.

Scenes and spreads from my sketchbook, pulling myself out of a rut and into the paintings creating master copies of works from Georgia O’ Keeffe and Agnes Pelton from the book Illumination: The Paintings of Georgia O'keeffe, Agnes Pelton, Agnes Martin and Florence Pierce.

On a warm Sunday, I traveled to Bomazeen Land Trust to attend a Exploring our Shared Landscape: A Nature Walk & Cyanotype Workshop with Maya Tihtiyas Attean with Indigo Arts Alliance. It felt so nice to be amongst friends, in nature, making art beneath the trees and sky.

I was invited to a Plein Air session at Surf Point in York, Maine by Tessa Greene O’Brien. This was a particularly busy week and it felt so good to prioritize a couple hours dedicated to painting outside amongst a collection of some of Maine’s most talented painters. I felt very lucky to be invited. I’ll be attending an upcoming session on July 10th lead by Alicia Ethridge.

My shop is open and full of goods!

Perhaps like most of us, I constantly feel like I am fighting time, fighting to reclaim it, harnessing my focus, my devotions, while allowing room for exploration, adventure, and the unplanned. I remind myself with my own words to believe in:

There are no mistakes because I always arrive where I need
when I work at a pace that is right for me.

Until next time friends. ✿ - Raquel