Dreamwalkers, I’m excited to share my latest conversation with artist, writer, and artful workshop coach, Margaret Kellermann, as she explores new thresholds in painting before her upcoming solo gallery show in Freshwater, California (more about her gallery show this month below). We all need to find sources of light in this dark time. Fellow artists’ discoveries and stories can open the way for all of us. Whether you’re moving forward, wandering around a creative crossroads, or standing on the edge of the unknown, I hope this talk supports your creative courage.

Janet: It’s always good to talk with you, Margaret.

Margaret: So good to creatively converse with you again, Janet! Thanks for inviting me.

Janet: The other day, when we chatted about your paintings, you used the term ‘visible horizon.’ Can you tell us about that?

Margaret: Well, as you know, for years I’ve been painting horizons between the sky and ocean. I love that simple line dividing Earth and Heaven–but the line’s a mirage; you can sail out toward it and never reach it. Some of my horizon lines bump across the canvas in a dark, fuzzy way. Other horizons are one line of gold paint straight from the tube, stretched across the canvas. The same ocean vista is transformed in different lights and atmospheres. Recently I wondered if there was a word that describes all these horizons. Turns out, the term visible horizon is very specific to what I paint. It’s “the somewhat irregular boundary between sea and sky, affected by atmospheric conditions.”

Janet: I love this discovery, Margaret. The “somewhat irregular boundary between sea and sky” sounds like what Celtic wisdom calls “the thin places where two worlds meet.” Did something in your childhood attract you to this?

Margaret: Somewhat irregular, indeed! I love-love stumbling upon thin places, Janet, and it would take another Creative Conversation to converse about those we’ve seen in our separate travels. There is one thin place I remember– not in the Celtic sense, exactly– but when I was young, Dad often brought out the home movie reels and gathered us into the living room to watch. Being a Coast Guard officer, Dad loved the open sea and videoed it on his voyages: sunsets, dawns, all kinds of light and color variations. We used to tease him about the long minutes of footage showing nothing but horizon, sky and sea, as the ship was moving along. Now? I’m sure my love of horizons come from that.

Janet: Oh, that’s beautiful. I can see your love for horizons in the paintings. The childhood story deepens my appreciation for them.

Janet: Can you tell us about the paintings above?

Margaret: Sure. I can talk about Threshold first. Last December, I really wanted to paint, but I was stuck, but I really wanted to paint, but I was stuck. Ever feel that way with writing?

Janet: Yes, the desire/fear loop. I’m there more often than I’d like to be. How did you break out of it?

Margaret: I got the largest canvas I had under my studio table, and I splashed lots of colors onto it, thinking it would make a good underlayer. But it turned out well, so I left it. That’s the upper part of the sky you see. To me, that part looks like the colors from stained glass windows shining onto the floor.

Janet: Yes! What a breakthrough. When you showed it to me, I said it looked like you were on the threshold of something new!

Margaret: You were right, but I just don’t know what it is yet! I look forward to finding out.

Janet: I love the mystery of that. And what about your other one above — Working on My Next Novel?

Margaret: A fellow artist invited me to teach an hour of her art class at the community college. “Teach them what you do with your horizons,” she said. So I stood in front of her class with an easel, talking with the students. Meanwhile, they painted theirs, and I painted this one–even the art professor painted– so many visual horizons. I’ve never painted while teaching before. It could have been chaotic, but it was very peaceful in the room. Everyone was up for the challenge.

Janet: Is bright yellow sky new for you? Did you use that color in the class?

Margaret: That one does use really bright yellow, using various tones of yellow here and there. I often use yellow as the main sky color on a bright sunny day, rather than a sky blue. Lately, I’ve been using gold paint. One painting with gold is Amazing Place. It just lights up the painting. It’s hard to photograph it in the right light, so the viewer can really see the shimmering light of it.

Janet: Yes. I have one of your paintings on my wall, and the true colors shine out. I see so much movement in the water and such depth in the sky. It feels like I’m standing in the wind at the seashore.

Margaret: Yayyyy.

Janet: Tell us a little about the upcoming solo show, if you will.

Margaret: When I tell people that the show’s called “Art and Chocolate!” they chime in: “What more do you need?” Exactly, I say. Recently I woke up with the idea of having a chocolate tasting at the exhibit, with some local chocolates and some national. Since then, a psychiatrist friend told me that chocolate–just the word itself!—causes a dopamine rush in many people. Not so with the word carrots! she said.

Janet: Yum! I love the combination of chocolate tasting and viewing art in person. I can see people standing in front of the paintings, taking in the sea and sky, and dreaming of the far horizon. I enjoyed exploring these four of the thirty or so paintings that will be in the show, Margaret. Some folks who live nearby will want to come (postcard details below). Those who live too far away still have a taste. And those who are drawn to having one of your paintings on their wall can reach out by email bluelakestudio239 at gmail dot com. Shipping is doable!

Thanks so much, Margaret. The light in your work gives me hope.

Margaret: That is exactly what I’m wanting, Janet. While painting, I think of those who will see the piece, and I pray–ask, not in a demanding way–that they feel the piece/peace as I did when I was looking at the real horizon on the beach or at another “thin place.” To transfer the memory of that time onto the canvas for others feels like a tremendous gift. Uber-tremendous. You can tell that sometimes the horizons hold some yellow or gold light, some farther shore you can almost see, even if the rest of the painting may be restless and maybe darker. I’m grateful you feel hope through the “visible light,” Janet.

Margaret Kellermann has created and shown her work in Canada and Mexico, as well as across the country. In Northern California, her work has been displayed at galleries including Morris Graves Museum of Art, Strawberry Rock Gallery and, until 2016, her own Blue Lake Studio Gallery. As director of Brave Arts, she encourages people to tap into their creative side with art hikes, workshops and creative coaching.

Find Margaret: website

Instagram: @coastally242

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Comment if you like. We love your ideas. 

Until next time. Walk well.

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