Montreal is a transitional city

That is what E said, and it is true....Montreal is a transitional city for all except for the, "belongers" and the die-hards.  I guess I am a die-hard because I've been here for so long. Am I a belonger?  It is my home, yet it has never really adopted me.
I belong to my ethnic linguistic groups and that is an accomplishment in itself, but for such a big city and for so long, the homogenous aspect is missing.
So many people have come and gone to and from this city, mainly students, Consuls, company execs, even doctors.  What about artists?  What is our fate in Montreal?  As there are no real criteria, the professionals become amateurs and the amateurs professional. There is some really amazing art, though a lot is based on technical merit or explanatory subtext.

Artists have to constantly hustle, and what about those that don't know how, don't want to be bothered, or don't believe in it?

I think I just made up a new word; "belonger"!:) it sounds like something we used in high-school, or from a song!

Remembering to Blog about My Art

There are so many ways of communicating now, but blogging is the least demanding.  If one is like me and writes rarely, mostly for oneself, and prefers not to be read, then it's perfect.  The blog is not a diary, nor a letter to anyone, nor a specific tirade.  Though I must admit I let out some steam regarding "committees".
It really serves as an outlet for some writing an as a reminder that I am a painter. My only problem is that I still haven't figured out how to post photos from this computer, so words are all I have!
 My last few portraits have been in deeper, more complex colours. The one of S is all in oils and started from life , continuing from photos which I took in the studio. The colours are inspired by the rich tones of saris!  V's is inspired by the dark colours of his paintings, which can be seen in the background. S really loved hers, and V has not seen his yet.  It is remarkable, that, when you first see it from a distance, he looks his age, but as one approaches, he seems to turn younger and younger! Maybe it's the final translucent layers of oil over acrylic on the face! Maybe it's the fact that I caught his youthfulness on canvas! Someone said that he seems to have an Idea!
I am now working on 2 new paintings which are taking forever! The story is forming along with the paintings!

True Art on St. Lawrence Blvd. today! Montrealska Devojka.

As I was going home in my car, I noticed a girl with alabaster white skin and dark red hair passing in front of me.I thought that she would make a wonderful model.  Her shoulders were bare and she wore a short black dress.  While stopped at the stop sign, I noticed a young man lying face down on the sidewalk as though dead, yet I knew he wasn't.  He had a muscular thin physique and shaved head. It was a magnificent pose, even though he was sprawled on the pavement! As the girl crossed the street in front of me, she immediately noticed the young man and approached him.  I was surprised when she reached out and touched him, as other ( mostly girls)  quickly gathered around him.  She, very lightly, touched his shoulder and he raised his head from the pavement.  That was when a car let me through and I drove away, looking back in my mirror, seeing her still there.  I don't know what happened, but it was life's art unfolding in front of me.  I had my camera next to me, but did not take a photo, it all happened so unexpectedly.  The image remained in my mind the whole ride back, and still does.  I wonder who stayed, who helped, who cared, what happened. It reminded me of the Serbian painting by Paja Jovanovic called, Kosovska Devojka.  Only this was Montreal and the young man was not on a battlefield, or was he?  I don't know if the girl gave him water, as the devojka in the painting did, or if her touch saved him.....but it was a moment of "Montrealska Devojka"!

Peer Assessment Committee, dreaded words!

Whenever there is a peer assessment committee in Art,  I shiver and know I won't make the cut.  This time it was from the Canada Council from which I had asked a grant. We rely for help in order to keep our art pure and as non-commercial as possible, but the support is hard to come by.  It's as V said; there's a whole method to writing grants, it's even taught at Art schools! More so than the actual art! I guess I should use the rejection experience in "finding the other means to pursue my artistic endeavours", as Michel Gaboury, the  Program Officer wrote.  The titles, the process, it's all so bureaucratic, and so far fetched from art itself, especially my art, which is based on instinct and emotion.  I guess the only thing artists like me can do is rely on themselves and their own " peer assessment committees", made up of friends and family:)

Warming up Humanity

I was very touched by a phrase I read in the paper today...it should definitely go into the annals of great phrases!  It was uttered by B. Kalif, a Montreal hero.  He said that Humanity these days is like the weather, it's cold as hell!  No truer words were uttered for a long time!  Hopefully these words will inspire people to be more humane, and not some conglomerate to make jeans and money with the slogan.
I feel sorry that I have to voice that fear, but it is just as true as the words the young hero uttered. It is the very reason that we are lacking Humanity, because everyone and everything is profit oriented. Imagine a world in which money and profit do not exist and the only goal is Humanity!
I think that is my driving hope, that we will one day become more humane, as our mothers were; as we were taught by our elders.  I hope it happens before we become elders. As it is, the Elders are being put away and Humanity is a forgotten word, all until a young and completely unexpected hero comes along and restores it into our consciousness!
My paintings have always related to the face of Humanity.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iI4-f8m6Hw4 a gift on uTube

Today, I am finally writing a bit in this Almost forgotten art blog of mine.  I think the main reason I don't write too much is the privacy issue. And the funny thing is, we write blogs, exActly for the reason  of being read.  But somehow, knowing there is someone reading it for the wrong reasons puts a damper on the creative pleasure of writing. Today's exhibit of Vlada Velickovic's works has re-sparked my urge to write a bit.  His works have brought back the pain all of us Beogradjani felt during the civil war which tore our old country apart. It is great to see how well received he is in Montreal! What a vision!  And he is consistent to himself.
The city we live in exerts an unseen force on our painting, despite all that we carry within us.  In my case, it is a mosaic of cities, and personal experiences.  Coincidentally The newest  painting I am planning is in tones of white and black. But before starting it I practiced on my gifted flowers, a bit like stretching. I could call it sketching stretching:) Somehow, i feel the need to paint every living thing that enters my studio, even flowers.

 Upon seeing my uTube presentation: Marina Gavanski Art Symphony;
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iI4-f8m6Hw4
S said that my black and white works are the most striking. .

The key for Z is taking a lot of my time.  Choosing the best photo of all those possibilities that J photographed for me is difficult and time consuming. Yet when I compare the real painting with the photo, there is always something missing.  There is nothing like the original!

Back in Montreal - Indian Summer

I think I brought a bit of Greece back to Montreal, as it is Indian Summer for the second time! The colours of the trees have started to change.  I hope to paint at least one watercolour of this annual splendour before Winter takes over with its ferocious cold and obscures all colours.....Later today:  Three leaves tap-danced accross the street.  I counted them.  They danced in the wind which announced the end of  Summer, I'm afraid. Maybe it will still be warm tomorrow?
Today, a box of my pastels fell on the floor in the studio.  I did my best to recover them and use their colours on various papers, by pressing the papers to the floor.  There were some interesting images formed, but nothing too remarkable. Mostly, they can be backgrounds, just as the Universe is a background for us.
My thoughts are for free as all things should be.  The hounds of capitalism want to charge for everything.  Can they sell emotion?  Everyone wants happiness, not depression, even though it is a most human emotion.  The idea of Happiness is is expensive because its' secret has not been divulged.
I was happy the day that I drew portraits of the children that I met in a field in Serbia, and the day when I drew a classmate's imaginary future husband in high-school.  Art is for all, but not all can create.  That is a fine line which critics are constantly vying to define. Does art by an adult resembling a child's qualify as art or does a child's art qualify?  The best art is through honesty.  The passage is through thorns. Just like in the ancient fairy tales.
There is a lot if writing here.  Now I understand how to write a blog.  One must be alone and have time.  It is like writing in a diary with the possibility of being read by others. There are no secrets even though it feels secret, as though you are all alone.  I must say that I admire those trying to
protect our privacy. Will they be able to evade the hordes of clean-cut, clear-eyed technocrats?  They search the airports, the airwaves, the websites, the e-mails and probably the blogs.
There is so much more to write, and so much more to paint.
This whole time, an ideal of truth is trying to present itself; no matter by whom or by which means, it
wants to be seen.
Truth is the consort of accountability and consequence, therefore truth is always in fear.  Only the
fearless know truth, and those are few.  This is the rumination of an ordinary person who tries to make sense through colour, line, shapes and ideas.
Truth appeared to me most convincingly, years ago, on Hollyburn mountain!  It was a self-explanatory state of awareness and freedom.  It can probably be scientifically explained by oxygen levels in the brain and so forth. It took a lot of climbing to get there.