What allowing brings

“Red Trunks” © 2013 Rebekah Luke, 16″ x 20″ oil on canvas board

Learning to relax, accept, and allow has opened an intriguing period of Creativity for me, both in and outside of the studio. I feel like I’m on top of a wave, and I don’t want to reach the shore. I’m going with the flow, and I like it.

Nine canvases are in various stages of completion for a show scheduled for August. (The oil paint needs the time to dry. ) I’ve gone out with my plein air students every week, sometimes twice a week, to paint at different locations on O‘ahu. Every time I say, “I have an idea,” DH says, “Uh-oh,” but this idea’s pretty good!

I’m revisiting some spots that I painted 20 or so years ago and repainting the scene. At first I thought my earlier work was better than my current work, but, after a little reflection and some feedback from friends, I now think the current work shows clearer intent and inner perspective. Sort of like when listening to music; you can tell the difference between someone who is reading the notes and a musician who already knows the piece and is playing it by heart.

Still, it’s all about the Light. Recently I’ve met other artists with a lot of Light — oh, so brilliant! We’re starting to explore the idea of collaboration. “It’s a hui thing, never just yourself,” a former colleague Lono points out. For this show, I’m sharing the billing with a talented 3D artist. We’re having fun planning it, and I’ll be sure to let you in on the details when they are final.

Next, I’m allowing the idea of providing reproductions of my art at affordable prices lower than that of an original painting to occupy a place in my product line. I can’t wait to see what the proofs look like, printed on both on art paper and canvas. Then it will be fun to take them to market.

Teaching is going well. Painting I and III finish up this week, and I plan to start new classes in June for children and adults. I’m encouraged by parents of youngsters who’ve requested more art lessons, and by my adult pupils who manage to come to class despite challenging issues with family, at work, and at home.

Art and making art is healing, and it is a gift to me to witness the progress. The folks in Painting III, who are coming with me to Italy in September, are so enthusiastic that they are organizing their own show and suggesting subject matter and locations that they want to paint this summer.

One of the pleasant surprises is my return to music. Since my teenage years, my parents, teachers, choir directors, and DH noticed I had “some musicality.” The path has always been available to me — beyond music lessons, performing in a group, playing instruments, study in college. While painting is on my students’ bucket list, arranging and composing music has been on mine.  But until last Christmas I didn’t really know where to begin to learn how to do it, and I was too shy to ask.

I’ve been encouraged by thanks from the performers in my glee club for my help in teaching them how to read music and hula dance, for sure, and I love the strokes. As for the melodies and lyrics that are coming to me at dawn right after my dream time, that’s a whole ’nother vibrational level. Stay tuned! I am so very grateful.

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“Red Trunks” pictured above will not be in the new collection. I’ve framed it for this coming weekend’s Bluegrass in the Ko‘olaus Festival at Ho‘omaluhia Botanical Garden. I’m taking my easel to paint by music and a couple of finished canvases, including this one, to show folks what a finished painting will look like. My painting group comes here to Luluku regularly. I enjoy painting the mountains and the trees.

Copyright 2013 Rebekah Luke

The feeling of a red-letter day

When I have a red-letter day, like Saturday was, I try to try to savor and remember the feeling. It’s sweet incentive for living and loving life to the fullest. Then I may be open to welcome the next time. Because the feeling is amazing.

To that end, I’ve decided to turn over another leaf by resisting the urge first thing in the morning to reach for an electronic device to see what happened overnight while I was sleeping. I will wait until after I practice tai chi—currently the saber set, breakfast without the TV news or the sound of a ball game, and a walk with the dogs on the beach. I will eat healthy foods, exercise, and meditate.

Saturday began with three neighborhood girls and one boy arriving at the studio at 8 a.m. for their first art class with Aunty Rebekah. I am offering the same basics to youth as to my adult Bucket List painting students: ball, cube, cylinder, and cone. The kids were great and kept me on my toes. It was nice to have 10-year-old-boy energy in the studio.

His mother wondered if perhaps he wouldn’t like the class if he was the only boy. For the exercise of drawing a ball, Jefferson filled a balloon with water and inflated it. Of course, the balloon eventually popped, but we agreed beforehand he would have to clean it up. I think he likes the girls.

A couple of the kids hadn’t eaten breakfast, so I’m glad I had two oranges in the set. When I cut them into slices to show ellipses, their eyes grew wide with appetite, and we all had a refreshing snack. The dogs Alice Brown and Pua were in heaven during recess with all the attention. Later, to get the kids to finish their drawings, I brought out some cones—sugar cones that DH thoughtfully bought when he saw me searching for a cone shape for the lesson—and a carton of ice cream.

“What is this?” I asked. They shouted, “Cone!” “And what is this?” I followed, scooping out vanilla. “Ball!”  Mission accomplished.

Then I went to play at the annual Punahou Carnival. It’s the famous fund-raising event of my alma mater where I perform with the Punahou Alumni Glee Club, sometimes provide paintings for the Art Gallery, and work in a booth with my classmates. Punahou School is super organized and makes money for the student financial aid program—how my parents could afford Punahou for me—by getting the junior class, their parents, and the alumni to donate goods and volunteer their labor.

I adore the camaraderie of the glee club, not to mention the chance to sing and dance. We rehearse weekly, and our director is skillful at getting our choir to peak for our performances. We sounded good and had an enjoyable time with the music.

The Class of ’67 . . . what can I say, except that we are tight. For example, Christine flew in from Arizona just to help serve laulaus for 3 hours. Every year we rendezvous at the Carnival to see each other briefly, hear our classmate Henry Kapono Kaaihue entertain in the cafeteria, and then go our separate ways again. It’s so nice to see everyone.

That would have been plenty, but the surprising joy of the day was the sale of my paintings by the Art Gallery! It was exciting! I painted the scene of the Ko‘olau Mountains from the spot where I go often with my painting group. It began on a spectacular clear day with hardly any clouds to hide the top ridge. The panorama was breathtaking, and I decided to turn it into a diptych of two horizontal paintings side by side.

“Lanihuli Diptych” is my most recent art work. I didn’t plan on taking anything to the Carnival because I’d not been successful in sales any previous years there. But my glee sister Tamson Fox, a full-time fine artist, reminded me in January the event was coming up. I’m so grateful to her for changing my mind.

Still giddy with delight and with my new earnings burning a hole in my pocket, I headed to the Diamond Head end of the midway and bought myself a present—a bling-y Pāʻani top with a night-blooming cereus flower.

DH and I hung out to catch my cousin Sunway’s performance with her band before it was time to go home. We negotiated with the “O” men in the produce tent over the script price for the avocados. They let us keep enough to buy one malasada doughnut each for the ride home. Yummy sugary goodness. Never mind the resolution to eat healthy. I’m celebrating!

It was the perfect ending to my amazing red-letter day.

Me and my glee sisters perform at the Carnival. (Photo by Joyce Pavlis)

Members of the Class of 1967 in a publicity shot with classmate and music recording artist Henry Kapono Kaaihue. Which one looks like the star? (Photo courtesy of Carlyn Tani, Punahou Bulletin)

Lanihuli Diptych, left panel, sold!

Lanihuli Diptych, right panel, sold!

Copyright 2013 Rebekah Luke

Mountain panorama commands a diptych

There’s something about the Ko‘olau mountains that draws painters to this landscape again and again. Besides their obvious lush and weathered volcanic beauty, they challenge us plein air painters to capture their form in the ever-changing daylight. I spent a lot of time studying the ridges and valleys in my most recent diptych of Lanihuli as viewed from Luluku. Together, the panels measure 60 inches by 22 inches, unframed. Oil on canvas board.

Lanihuli Diptych, left panel

Lanihuli Diptych, right panel

Update 2/2/13: I am please to report that “Lanihuli Diptych” was sold to a buyer at the Punahou Carnival this past weekend. Half of all sales are donated to the student financial aid program at my alma mater. ~RL

Copyright 2013 Rebekah Luke

A balance of light and energy

For the past few days I’ve done the things I like to do. There seems to be a balance of energy around me, and I feel well! This is my 200th blog post to you!

A photo panoramic view of Lanihuli peak from Luluku on a sunshiny winter day. I've made several paintings in oil of the vicinity. I like to paint in the landscape as much as I like to blog. Access is from Ho‘omaluhia Botanical Garden. Please see the painted images below.

I had a Reiki client this morning, too. That is great for my being. Then I was glad to get some nice email from some folks I hadn’t heard from for a while.

The studio is clean, that is, clean enough that I’m not going crazy with clutter, and I’m expecting my cousin Jim this afternoon when we will continue working on a new book about our family, my grandparents’ clan.

I’m on track with writing the lesson plans for the Painting classes I’m teaching starting February.

DH and I are sleeping very well since moving our bed back to the original master bedroom that we vacated to accommodate my aging father (1914-2003) and later Miss Marvelous, while her parents worked and she was not yet in school. Anticipating the kids’ move to Italy in a month or so, we disassembled the crib and moved back in after almost 10 years.

The feng shui is better in the living area, thanks to a simple rearrangement of furniture to allow for a freer flow of energy.

I’m eating more sensibly since the holidays, though enjoying Chinese New Year food, and, at this very moment, the aches and pains of aging are non-existent. I’m listening to soothing harp music and not a ball game on TV.

Yesterday I painted with the Thursday group and got some good critique from Val and Naomi, who paint differently from the way I paint, but they have good eyes and suggestions to improve the canvas I’m working on—a morning scene of Kuilima Cove on the North Shore.

I was sorry I didn’t bring a large blank canvas, for the vog gave way in the morning to clear skies and a spectacular landscape in the top photo that I should have been painting instead. I snapped two pictures with my iPhone. After posting them on Facebook, Kelley commented the mountain scene was so beautiful to her. I agreed. Nature in the right light. Yo posted she almost mistook them for one of my paintings.

In fact, I have painted scenes from this place on other occasions, and surely will paint another now that I can see the mountain up to the top, for there were few clouds, and definite form and cast shadows from a point source—the sun!

"Banyan Shade," 16" x 20"oil on canvas

"Clouds Lifting Over Lanihuli," 16"x 20" oil on canvas

"View of the Koolau Mountains" by Rebekah Luke. Richard Guy Collection.

"Golden Retreat at Ho'omaluhia," 11" x 14" oil on canvas

Reiki blessings to you!

Copyright 2012 Rebekah Luke

Pampered by a fried egg sandwich

It’s easy for me to feel pampered down at the fishing pier.

10:30, after my workout in Kāneoʻhe, in the mood for a late breakfast, I stop at He‘eia Pier once again. I’m monitoring my food intake for several reasons, but today, after reading the menu, I feel I can have an egg: Fried Egg Sandwich $4.

But like I said, I’m pampered.

In a few moments Chef Mark calls out: Rebekah, would you like anything else on it? Some cheese?

Me: Um, no, do you have any lettuce?

Chef: Tomato would be good.

Me: Okay!

Chef: A little mayonnaise?

Me: No thanks, and please hold the cheese.

Now why, you might ask, don’t I just fix my own egg sandwich at home?

On a beautiful day in Hawaii like today, I can sit at the outdoor picnic table on the waterfront and be mesmerized by the Ko‘olau Mountains I love to paint and the sound of the sea lapping the shore. I can eavesdrop on the old-time regulars and watch the boats come and go to drop off and pick up polite Japanese tourists. It’s peaceful.

When my order comes out, I see beautiful food art neatly cut in two triangles. I don’t have to step up to the pick-up window for my plate. Chef delivers it personally to the table.

Bread toasted perfectly, just how I like it. Egg fried perfectly, but not greasy, with just the tiniest bit of runny yolk. Tomato slice and sprigs of . . . purslane!

I would have shown two thumbs up when Mark checked back—it seems he always makes it a point to acknowledge the customers—but one hand was putting the sandwich in my mouth. And I’m sorry, I ate everything before I thought of taking a picture.

WHEN YOU GO

• Be willing to park on the far side of the boat ramp and walk if there are no spaces closer. The Deli is open for breakfast and lunch, closed on Monday.

• Have no expectations except to expect to wait for your order. Allow yourself to be surprised. He‘eia Pier Deli is not a fast food joint. It’s the most welcome addition to local cuisine kicked up a couple notches where the chef and crew take care of windward Oahu residents.

• Feel good that you are supporting the local Hawaiian economy.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

Remaking an oil painting

As an oil painter I’m often asked, “How long does it take to finish a painting?” In the same vein artists will remind each other, “You have to know when to stop.” We like to avoid overworking a piece.

My “Clouds Lifting Over Lanihuli” demonstrates these points. First is a photo of the painting mid-way, in the field. On a clear day, there are no waterfalls in the scene, but just after a big rain when the clouds lift, there they are! To paint en plein air I headed to this place to study the scene when it was raining, time after time. I took this snapshot from the trunk of my hatchback where I’d taken shelter.

In the field, in the rain

I wanted so much to finish the painting. Below is what I published, i.e., what I thought was ready for market, a few weeks ago. Oils take a long time to dry—up to six months before they can be varnished. In the meantime I can look at a painting every day. As I kept staring at this piece (it’s staged above the TV cabinet) something bothered me. It wasn’t finished.

Not quite finished

I decided to correct the areas of the painting that were “wrong.” In a representative piece, although it is impressionistic (I label my style as “impressionistic representationalism”) I want to paint a scene so that it looks logical.

To really finish and complete this painting, I did three things:

1) I added pigment to the center clouds area to hide the waterfall behind it.

2) I widened the same center waterfall at the bottom because it is closer to the viewer (and so should appear larger).

3) In addition, by very very carefully scraping with the long edge of a palette knife, I knocked down some objectionable relief areas I originally painted of the mountain ridges at the top and touched up the clouds to make them softer and smoother looking.

“Clouds Lifting Over Lanihuli” looks better now. I hope you agree!

Finished: "Clouds Lifting Over Lanihuli," 16" x 20" oil on canvas

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

Clouds lifting over Lanihuli

I wonder if it is true that in olden times the waterfalls of windward Oahu ran all the time. Olden times meaning before water was diverted to the Ewa plain for sugar cane and land development. At the present intersection of Kahekili and Likelike highways, while waiting at a red light, a rain storm typical of our wet season had just stopped and the clouds lifted to reveal a spectacular scene of the Koolau mountains. I was on my way to Hoomaluhia Botanical Garden at Luluku and made up my mind to hold the vision in my memory so I could paint it. For in just a few quarters of an hour the sun came out again and the waterfalls disappeared.

"Clouds Lifting Over Lanihuli" 16" x 20" Oil on Canvas (unfinished)

UPDATE, September 11, 2011: As you will see in my 9/11/2011 post, I have made some changes to this painting, and I think you may like the finished work better. Thanks for visiting Rebekah’s Studio.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke