Rosemary G. Conroy Fine Art

Putting Myself Out There

October 8th, 2015
I love doing my open studio -- it takes a lot of energy, of course!

I love doing my open studio — it takes a lot of energy, of course! But it brings me so much too.

It’s amazing that it’s already time for my NINTH annual open studio! How crazy is that?

It’s so much fun to invite people in and show them everything I’ve been doing. I love seeing folks that I don’t get to see that often and meet new ones too.

Yes, it’s a lot of work. But I think it’s totally worth it. And kind of necessary. Yes, I believe in what I’m doing — but I also need people’s feedback. Do they get it? Do they understand what I am trying to say? Being an artist means spending a lot of time alone with your work and yourself. My open studio is often a big reality-check.

Luckily — and this is probably because those who show up wouldn’t if they weren’t already predisposed to like my art — so far it’s always turned out great! I’ve realized over the years how much I feed on the energy of all the folks who come out. It is so so gratifying to hear that people do get what I am doing, that they often LOVE it, and many times — that they want to take it home! (After all, this is my business — I need to pay for all that paint…)

And since I consider every painting a part of me, of my soul, when someone says they love the work, I feel the love too. It’s a lovely thing to feel. Who doesn’t love being loved? We are after all still children at heart I think. I know I am!

I want to use my work to speak for the animals, to celebrate nature, and ultimately to bring more beauty into the world. I think these things are really, really necessary. This is my calling. So yeah, the positive reinforcement goes a long, long ways on those days when I forget, or get lost, or wonder if it’s worth doing.

So thank you so much for all the kindness and love. Just so you know — it makes a difference.

Who’s a Good Boy?!?!

February 2nd, 2015
happythedog.jpg

Such a sweet boy and such an impact he had on me

I was thinking about the “why” of what I do — painting animals over and over — and I suddenly had this memory pop into my head.

I was about 19 years old and sitting in a restaurant with my boyfriend of the time. I had just found out that my dog “Happy” had died that day.

The memory I flashed back on was of me sitting in that restaurant and BAWLING my eyes out over the demise of Happy. And I didn’t just cry — I sobbed hysterically, with tears pouring out of my face and I’m sure snot coming out my nose. I was completely overcome with grief. I remember being so embarrassed later by how wildly emotional I had been in public — the other diners in the restaurant must have been pretty horrified too. Yikes.

When I had that memory resurface out of the blue yesterday I also had the thought — “Wow Happy’s death marked the end of my childhood, really.”

You see, Happy was more than just a pet. My two other siblings were four and eight years older than me and both male. I was forever trying to keep up with them or do what they did and being constantly thwarted by both being so much younger AND a girl. It constantly outraged me and probably explains my competitive nature somewhat. Plus both my brothers were terrible teases and loved to play practical jokes on me. You never knew when a cup of water might be propped up on the door you were about to open or someone was hiding behind the shower curtain ready to pop out and yell Boo! (I learned to be a keen observer thanks to them too, I suppose!)

So Happy was my refuge as only a dog can be. He was good-natured and goofy and very tolerant of being hugged and petted. We got him when I was five and I remember spending what felt like hours pouring out my little girl heart to him. Of course he TOTALLY understood me. He was in complete agreement about how unfair it was that I couldn’t be an altar boy or be in the balsa wood derby or play with my brother’s GI Joes when he was so perfect for Barbie and had a JEEP. That dog was the perfect little brother I never had.

Happy gave me the solace and sweetness of unconditional love. It’s no wonder I cried so hard when he died. Who wouldn’t mourn out loud the end of such a bond? And I suppose it’s no wonder that deep impression lingers to this day in my art.

BTW: The painting above was a warm-up I did for a commission of a my husband’s cousin’s dog who is a totally different breed. (Happy was a mutt — half poodle/half terrier of some sort.) But every time I see it, I think “That’s Happy!”

Look at those big brown eyes — he still totally gets what I am saying!

 

 

 

 

A new word for a new year

December 14th, 2009

For the past few years, instead of making New Year’s resolutions, I simply pick one word.

I got this idea from Christine Kane, one of my favorite musicians and blogger extraordinaire. For 2009, I picked the word “ACCEPTANCE” because I wanted to work on accepting people as they are, instead of how I wish they could be. A lovely thought, right? But boy, did this year turn out different than I thought – I had to do a LOT of accepting: Of my mother dying suddenly; of having to clean out her house; and then subsequently selling it (50+ years in the family); of having that, my last connection to my hometown of Brooklyn, NY severed forever; and, last but not surprisingly,  of not being able to work on my 350 project. Oh yeah, and I got laid off from my Something Wild gig.

I did not accept any of this very well. In fact, I raged against it all. I let the grief swallow me up. I barely painted. It was all very natural but much of it was not welcome, not wanted, and definitely NOT what I was planning on happening for this year!

But eventually, with the help of my darling husband, my family, the support of many wonderful friends, the wild bears I met in MN, and an absolutely amazing weekend workshop at Kripalu; I am finally coming to terms with it all. Yes, acceptance was the perfect word for this year.

So what will be the word for 2010? I want it to be a word that is not as heavy, not as self-improvement-y, not as serious. Because I really really hope that 2010 won’t be any of those things. I plan to get back on track with my 350 project and I have all these cool ideas swirling around in my head for a new body of work too. I want to paint paint paint! I want to dance more and laugh a whole lot more than I did in 2009.

So it’s official: my word for 2010 will be CELEBRATE. Because despite all the sorrow and losses, I still have so much to be joyful about. And above all, I want my art to celebrate the things I love about this world. And I have great friends who are really great to have at parties. It’s a darn good word. And even if 2010 isn’t perfect, this word will remind to focus on what is beautiful and magical about my life.

My next post will probably be in January! So Happy New Year, Happy Solstice, and don’t forget to CELEBRATE all the good things in your life — past, present, and future…