Print Pre-Orders

I have a few prints that I’m preparing to take in to get professionally scanned, and then prints will be available.  I’ve decided to take pre-orders for these to help me cover the cost of scanning.  Pre-orders prices are 15% off with shipping added in after the discount.  These will be available for international shipping for an additional $5.  I will give you directions on ordering at the bottom of this post.

Pre-sale orders must be received and paid in full by January 31st.  I hope to have these in the mail by the end of February if not much sooner.

Please forgive the quality of the images here.  They are small and low quality, and I promise you that your prints will meet your expectations of what a fine art print should be.

apollon

Apollon (mixed media) – Original is sold

  • 11×14 inches on matte archival paper – $31
  • 6×7 inches on matte archival paper – $18

 

diana

Diana – Original is sold

  • 12×12 Matte archival paper (non-foiled) – $16
  • VERY LIMITED EDITION – 12×12 Matte archival paper with silver leaf – $50

This will be available in smaller sizes, but there is no cost difference with pre-sale.

nyx

Nyx

Original watercolor on 300 lb 100% cotton paper – $300

  • 12×16 Matte archival paper – $36
  • 12×16 cotton watercolor paper – $48
  • 6×8 Matte archival paper – $21
  • 6×8 cotton watercolor paper – $24

wolf

Untitled – Please inquire on price of original

  • 12×16 Matte archival paper – $36
  • 12×16 cotton watercolor paper – $48
  • 6×8 Matte archival paper – $21
  • 6×8 cotton watercolor paper – $24

To order: Please email me at notawiccan(at)gmail(dot)com with what you would like to order, and I will send you a PayPal invoice.

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Strong Juno, Queen and Protector

Juno Regina by Camilla Laurentine
Juno Regina, clay and paint

Galina Krasskova is running an agon for Juno until February 14th, and I would encourage everyone to send a prayer or piece of art in Juno’s honor for this.  This is my entry.  I’d been waiting for the statue’s clay to dry, and Galina’s announcement gave me the last little kick I needed to motivate me in completing this.  For that I’m very thankful.

This statue is going to be placed for the first time on my shrine tomorrow for the Kalends of February, which happens to be Juno’s die natalis, or birthday, as well.  Both Juno and Janus recieve cultus in my home on the Kalends of the month, and She has a special place here, having been openly prayed to at my wedding to my mortal husband.  I will have to remove the on a sunny day to put a protective coat over the paint, but I’m very pleased with how She turned out.

It seemed natural to sculpt Her first.

Lately I’ve been thinking about my return to art after so many years of walking away from art school.  We were recently looking through my portfolio of work from my high school years, and most of the drawings and paintings were related to mythology.  I’d always considered myself a figurative artist, but looking over it recently I realized that my focus had always fallen back to Deities and Spirits.

I look back at my critiques in Chicago, and I think beyond my depression and pain I felt from my work being torn apart, I was told regularly my art fell in the genre of fantasy.  I had (and still have) quite a bit of technical skill to master, and I was never unaware of that.  However, I have always felt a sense of sacredness to the work I do in the realm of art.  Meditating upon it now, I feel a deep awareness that I didn’t take those critiques as simply a technical critique…  Those pieces of art were my statement of my belief in the Gods, and even as a teenager that was a very serious thing to me.  My art has never been fantasy any more than a Christian would call a painting of Jesus a piece of fantasy.

It’s taken me years to get to a place where I feel comfortable making art again, and it’s only with that comfort that I’m realizing that I didn’t just feel attacked on my talent and skill but my very beliefs.

This ramble is basically just a note of thanks to those reading my blog and encouraging me to continue creating.  I’m so happy to have found others who believe in the Gods as I do, or close enough that we can consider each other co-religionists.

Thank you.

Also, be looking out for an exciting announcement coming from me!  (Not the opening of my art store either!)

Spirit-Working Artist Problems

Me: I’m going to draw Freya next.

Loki: Why hello there! *lounges on the couch with no clothes on, eating an apple*

Me: … Hi.  You’re naked.  I’m not going to draw you right now.

Loki: Yes, you are.  Look at me.

Me: … *glares and goes off to do housework instead, muttering about how this isn’t going to end well*

One week later…

Me: *sits down to draw Freya*

Loki: *refuses to let her visualize anything but him nude and eating an apple*

Me: Damn it! *tries again*

Loki: I’m glorious!

Me: Fine!  Fine!  Fine! *grumbles and starts a preliminary figure study of Loki* But you have to cover up a little…  I’m a prude.

Loki: Deal.

Here we go…

Study for Future Apollon Piece

Study for Future Apollon Piece

Slowly pulling myself out of the art block that lasted over a decade. I’m currently working on studies for a future piece of Apollon.

I have been putting off drawing Apollon, because my self-confidence to get Him right is does not exist. He has been pushing for it all the same.

A Return to Art: Cultivating Self

Note: I am behind on my Fasti post for April, and I apologize to anyone looking for it.  I got hit with chronic illness after a bout of stomach flu, and this is the first week in almost a month I’ve felt even remotely capable of thought.  It will go up in the next couple days.  May’s posting will be forthcoming also.

Michael’s recently had a 3-for-the-price-of-1-sale on their art paper. It was about the time I had spent 10 minutes debating size and type aloud to myself while my mother and daughter stood patiently waiting that I should have maybe realized that something was amiss. When Mr. F&F inquired why I had bought so much paper, puzzling over why I needed so 3 pads, and I exclaimed “I’m going to use it!” in an annoyed manner that something was happening.

I should have seen it when I gleefully, albeit slowly, started drawing out graphic design work. I had to have had some inkling when I wanted nothing more than to buy clay to sink my hands into for the first time in ages.

I was stepping back into art in a serious manner after almost a decade.

Somewhere in storage is a giant box of supplies I never got rid of. It wasn’t a “just in case” thing. It wasn’t a “I’ll get to it later” or “when I feel like it” situation. It was hoarding things I had absolutely no plans to ever use again but just couldn’t get rid of. Or so I told myself, even if now I’m currently wondering where that box is exactly. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have known it wasn’t actually done. I wasn’t really finished with it, even if I thought I never wanted to make art again.

A few months ago, I started realizing I felt like I’ve been removing parts of other people that I seemed to absorb. All of these voices filled with judgment. They belong to people I care about, or they belong to people I cared about at the time. Friends. Family. Teachers. I know we all suffer from it, but I sometimes wonder if, because I have been so involved in the group artistic process of critique, that somehow I trained myself to take in what everyone has said and internalize it more than your average… Attempting to make myself better than I already perceived myself to be.

The problem with critiques is that not all advice you get is actually good advice. In a class setting, you find yourself getting advice from peers. Sometimes the teacher isn’t skilled or even remotely interested in the style that you are… Which is where I hit the real wall in Chicago. I internalized those critiques. Critiques I have scars inside my mouth to this day from, trying to keep myself from showing others the weakness and art school crime of feeling too much about your creation… Critiques that eventually hit too hard during the very initial days of my first mystical experiences and the deepest depression I’ve ever experienced.

I remember driving away from Chicago, watching the city’s skyline get smaller and smaller as we drove back to Iowa. I remember the bitterness of a dream I worked years to achieve not being anything like I’d imagined it would be. I remember the promises of returning to visit friends who had supported me the best they could those hard months and understanding at a very gut level that I’d never see them again. Never mind the friends that I’d not gotten to say goodbye to before leaving.

Never mind that a decade later, the voices of my teachers there have grown into the monsters that try to hold me back. I think I’m starting to understand that I internalized these voices as a weapon against myself. I feed them by listening to them.

I don’t think I will ever get rid of them, but I can learn to ignore them. I can grow back the pieces of me that I have tried to keep from growing due to fear of being judged by people I care about. It’s none of my business what other people think about me, and if they really want to be vocal about it then I need to start reconsidering if they really deserve to be a part of my life.

In the garden that is my own life, I am the one who has the final say in what seeds to allow to grow and which sprouts to pull. I have the right to remove anything that threatens to spread to the point of choking out the beauty I have planned. This is what I tell myself. This is a theme that keeps returning this year for me, and amusingly I discovered just last night that according to numerology I’m in the finalizing 9 cycle for the year.

It’s time to let go of things that no longer work for me: Ideas, habits, people.

This isn’t as easy as I would like it to be, but it’s necessary for growth. That’s what Apollon keeps telling me. That is what all the Gods, major and minor, who take the time to speak to me say. If I don’t let go of these things on my own accord, they will be ripped out from me anyway.

But as I work on removing these things, I find old parts of me buried underneath. Here is my art. Here are people who support my work and my Work. Here are pencils and paper and praise. Naysayers I’ll never see again in my life but somehow weaseled their way into my brain be damned. If we rip off the old skin, I can see the woman who has been silently healing underneath all along. Maybe a little scarred and worse for wear but complete all the same.

It’s funny how some things you simply can’t escape. You think you’ve done it, but suddenly you find instead that you’ve come full circle back to something.

Art just happens to be one of those things for me. I have officially given up fighting it.