November 2022 – Kay Foley

Posted on November 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

What’s In a Name?

Every painting wants a name, I feel. How would you like to go your whole life known (and I use the term loosely) as Untitled? I don’t think you would. I know I wouldn’t! After all we’ve been through together, that painting and I, it seems rather unseemly to leave it an orphan, without a name to be remembered by. Rather like leaving a child unnamed. I just cannot do it. To that end, I have wracked my brain to title all of my paintings for my upcoming solo show.

I am aware that I’ve put mountains of perhaps undue import on this. I do intend to make many more paintings before the jig is up. It’s not like these are the last paintings I’ll ever make. It’s not the same as having that last baby and struggling to choose the perfect name for him, since you know he will be the last, i.e., Oliver. My sons have, in order of age, one- two- and three-syllable names that are perfect (not to brag) and that go together perfectly, I feel. Cole, Peter, Oliver. Unique but not weird. Backwards, if you want weird (or Elven)–Eloc, Retep, and Revilo.

Still, being a word person, I have wanted these paintings to have wonderful names, and the show itself to have an auspicious name. I wrote many pages of ideas, exploring various themes. I wrote them in bed, while watching the world come awake. I wrote them on the couch, in the company of my dogs. I wrote them at my desk. I pored over them, consulting the dictionary and the Thesaurus again and again, reconsidering them at various points. I contemplated some of my favorite odd words, such as malarkey, hullaballoo, panjandrum. Musical terms, Tarot words, portmanteaus from Alice in Wonderland, nature terms, nautical terms, place names, on and on. The world of words is my oyster. Possibilities are endless.

Finally, the deed is done! The paintings are named, the babies are put to bed, the names have been sent off to the lovely gal in charge of the whole shebang. The show’s title, “Course Made Good,” has a nautical meaning. If you come to the show or view it online (both of these coming soon), you’ll see. Or you can look it up! It struck me as relevant to my life.

What, exactly, is in a name? Loads. A world. A person. An idea.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” ― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

“I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I’ve never been able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

Posted on November 10, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Eyes Mind Heart

We hear all the time about the mind/body connection. What about the New York eye/brain/heart connection?

I recently returned from another fabulous trip to see my sons who live in New York. The City is jam-packed with everything. Everything. Okay, there are no mountains, so everything but mountains. Whenever I go, I’m met with a muchness that invigorates first my eyes, then my brain, and then my heart. Looking at something like that amazing Barbara Kruger installation (above), I feel my eyes widen and my brain open right up. And after that, my heart. Love. There is so very much to love.

Honestly, you don’t need to step into a museum to get the eye/brain/heart love. It’s in the street art, the hilarious or heartbreaking signs and graffiti, the juxtaposition of trees with skyscrapers, the many beautiful parks, the skyline at night, old and new buildings standing right next to each other, the beautiful bridges, loads of short-legged dogs, wild Halloween decorations on the beautiful brownstones, the surprise of sculpture in subway stations, even the digital (no longer neon) craziness of Times Square, and of course the fashions! All of it, so inspiring! So energizing! Nourishment for the eye. Eye to brain to heart.

I never fail to come home full of possibility and light, eyes stuffed with color and wonder, a serotonin-filled brain imagining all kinds of projects and pursuits, a heart full of love for my own sons and, too, for all of those enterprising, creative individuals who make New York the remarkable place it is.

Begging the question: What will I do with all of this energy coursing through my creative brain, more than a week later? We shall see.

Sure, the City would feel quite different were my sons not there with me, and I’m sure NYC has its share of lonely people, not to mention desperate and homeless. But for me, lucky as I am and for a week or so, it is a fat purse that never empties.

“I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world’s greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance.” – Nora Ephron

“New York is not a city. It’s a world.” – Iman

“When it’s 100 degrees in New York, it’s 72 in Los Angeles. When it’s 30 degrees in New York, in Los Angeles it’s still 72. However, there are 6 million interesting people in New York, and only 72 in Los Angeles.” – Neil Simon

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on November 10, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Meeting Your Heroes

I met one of my longtime art and book heroes last week at my favorite book store in the world.

When my son, Peter, was maybe ten years old, a good friend of mine gave him the book, Hey Willy, See the Pyramids by Maira Kalman. We all loved the zany little book with her crazy illustrations. My favorite part of the book goes like this:

“What is nothing?” I ask.

“Nothing is when you are given a very small portion of ice cream by an adult, and you look at the plate and at the adult and you ask for more and the adult says you have a huge portion and you say ‘That’s it? That’s nothing.’

“And that is nothing,” says Lulu.

That book was the beginning of a long love affair with all things Maira Kalman. I bought her children’s books for my sons. I bought her adult books–often a mix of humor, beauty, and sadness–for myself. My son, Cole, has gifted me with several of her books, some signed, as well as a Kate Spade purse decorated with Maira’s drawing. Most recently, he orchestrated a gift from my three boys of her “cosiette,” a hand embroidered piece of linen from her drawings, set into a tray. I have seen her exhibits at the Jewish Museum in San Francisco, the Jewish Museum in New York City, and galleries in NYC.

But I had managed to miss her appearances in NYC, including, on one visit, a talk at the NY Public Library just one hour after my plane left for home. I once emailed her, to see if she’d be speaking anywhere and she very kindly replied no, not this time.

The Strand book store, in New York City’s East Village, boasts 18 miles of books on its many shelves. Included in the 18 miles is the rare book room on the third floor, where author talks are held. Maira was scheduled to speak about her newest book, Women Holding Things, as well as showing the paintings from it at a gallery in Chelsea, all during my visit! Oh joy! Peter got tickets to the talk, including a copy of the book, and we heard her speak from front row center seats.

They say you should never meet your heroes. But I was not disappointed. We hold the same views on many things. She “falls in love with 50 things” every day. She loves walking. Values her time alone. Loves cake. She does not read the news (I do read a little)–only the obits. But she knows what goes on in the world and she takes an active role in doing good, selling limited edition booklets for $100 apiece to raise money for causes that I, too, hold dear.

As she signed my copy of her book, I yammered on, telling her all the things, about Hey Willy and all the books, about my boys, the Kate Spade purse, the cosiette, her kind email, all in a big rush, knowing there were others waiting and I was lucky, so lucky to be there with my sons, both of them snapping photos. She was great and lovely and very kind.

The next day we went to see the gallery show of “Women Holding Things.” Another lovely piece of the Maira Kalman adventure. That trip filled me up in so many ways. This was one of them. Finally I’d met one of my heroes.

“My dream is to walk around the world. A smallish backpack, all essentials neatly in place. A camera. A notebook. A traveling paint set. A hat. Good shoes. A nice pleated (green?) skirt for the occasional seaside hotel afternoon dance.”― Maira Kalman, The Principles of Uncertainty

“Everyone I know is looking for solace, hope and a tasty snack.”― Maira Kalman

“On the wall was a dress that I embroidered. It said “Ich Habe Genug.” Which is a Bach Cantata. Which I once thought meant “I’ve had it, I can’t take anymore, give me a break.” But I was wrong. It means “I have enough.” And that is utterly true. I happen to be alive. End of discussion. But I will go out and buy a hat.” ― Maira Kalman, The Principles of Uncertainty

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on November 10, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Embarrassment of Riches

It’s autumn and this year where I live we’ve had an explosion of color, practically overnight. One day everything was still lush green and the next, boom! a paintbox of colors popped open. I have been taking photos like a crazy person.

But I’ve also been loving so many quiet, humble bits of nature nearly everywhere I go and not always on the brilliant blue sky days, either. Just look at those clouds. Just look at the variety of greens as they fade into something else. Look at the red vines crawling up the trunk of a tree that’s still quite green. Look at the few little leaves that have turned yellow on an otherwise green shrub.

It’s not just the big trees and shrubs and the brilliant blue sky that enchant the eye, either. Nuts and shiny dry brown leaves have a sculptural quality that is quite beautiful. The weeds and vines, in their softer, muted shades are quite lovely, too. I feel like if I turn my head in any direction these days, including down to the ground, I’ll see something marvelous.

It’s a true embarrassment of riches.

It’s a time of year that reminds us to get outdoors every single day, rain or shine, so we don’t miss a single turn or variation in the colors of our amazing world; a time that teaches us, so clearly, of the ephemeral nature of nature and of our own lives; a time when we can see both the gorgeous and the sublime right next to that which is humble and quiet. We learn as we go and the more we go outside, I feel, the more we learn.

“What you see with your eyes is transient and ephemeral. What you see through your heart is everlasting and eternal.”― Debasish Mridha

“We humans may think of ourselves as solid objects, all flesh and bone. But take a close look, and it’s clear our bodies are composed largely of oxygen and hydrogen. We are essentially ephemeral – akin as much to wind, water, and fire as to earth.” Curt Stager, Your Atomic Self

“It is the ephemeral nature of things that makes them wonderful.” ― Yoshida Kenkō, A Cup of Sake Beneath the Cherry Trees

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on November 10, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

100 Day Projects Part II

A hundred and two days ago, I decided to meditate for 100 days in a row. I just finished.

I wrote a previous letter about 100 Day Projects. I said that I was planning to start a new something and to make it last for 100 days. I wasn’t sure what it would be but I imagined that it might include pen and paper. Wrong.

I say I meditated “100 days in a row” but I did forget twice. I just simply forgot. I forgot on Day 66, started up again the next day and forgot again on day 87 and restarted again. I was quite disappointed with myself for forgetting, especially that first time. Old Lady Brain. I had also forgotten to lock the back door when I left the house that day, despite the fact that I’d been quite bothered when my son said I leave it unlocked all the time. But it turns out that omissions and interruptions fit right in with the practice of meditation.

Beginning again after being distracted, they tell me, is the essence of meditation. Perfect! Yay me!

Since I am still learning, I listen to teachers on the 10% Happier app and I meditate with their guidance. Sharon Salzberg said, in a recent lesson (after my two omissions), “We say that the moment you realize you’ve been distracted is the magic moment. Because that’s the moment we have the chance to be really different. Not judge ourselves, not put ourselves down, but simply let go and begin again. If you have to let go and begin again thousands of times, it’s fine.”

Well, her words were magic to me. Loving, kind, accepting. Sharon says beginning again is the practice. La! This means that I am all good and my meditation is full of magic moments, as I begin again and again and again.

Beginning again after being distracted, they tell me, is the essence of meditation. Perfect! Yay me!

So I’ve completed 100 days of meditation. This morning I did an unguided meditation and afterwards I thought that, since I’m still learning, I’d like to listen to one lesson with guided meditation each day and do one unguided meditation every day. Upping the ante. I’m not sure I’ll keep track of the days this time but I will still have the goal of a daily practice.

I feel very lucky to have access to all these wonderful teachers, thanks to the mind-boggling internet. There is so much out there that is good. Wonders never cease.

“It is never too late to start now.” ― Lailah Gifty Akita

“Every sunrise gives you an opportunity to begin again.” ― Debasish Mridha

“Begin again. Begin again. Every year, Every day, Every moment, Begin again.” Shellen Lubin

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”