Wandering Artist's Journal

This morning, from the window by my desk. My sojourn here in Virginia City is coming to an end and I’m headed back to my studio in Reno - in a much better state than when I got here (one month ago.) It wasn’t easy, but I did manage to learn a few things that I hope I can build on going forward: - I no longer need people around me all the time. I can pick myself up when I fall. - I can sleep alone in a safe place now (though darkness still scares me.) - My in-house source of advice and feedback is gone, but I have good friends who are willing and able to step in. I was reading Seneca’s letter of advice to Serenus recently and this stood out:  “Nothing delights the mind so much as fond and loyal friendship. What a blessing it is to have hearts with whom you are less afraid to share knowledge  than keep it to yourself, whose conversation soothes your distress, whose advice helps you make up your mind, whose geniality dissolves your sorrows, whose very appeara...

Looking East, from midway up Ophir Ravine A few days ago I went out for my evening walk, heading West, as usual (East in the morning, West in the evening, to take advantage of the mountains as sunblock.) West, in Virginia City, means uphill. I had no agenda, no destination, beyond getting some exercise and looking around. I was crossing a parking lot, looking up at the “V” on Mt. Davidson, when it occurred to me, “This would be a great time to try to hike up there.” Backstory: I’ve tried this mountain before. Haven’t gotten far. It’s been on my “to do” list for a year or so. Problems: I’m prone to altitude weakness and heat stress. After my last heat stroke incident (trying to find the grave of Julia Bulette) I promised some friends that I would knock it off and quit fainting in public, on this trip at least. But this evening walk was different. It was cool, low 70s and dropping fast (first clue ignored) and the sun was already behind the mountain. I felt strong, ready...

I’ve been living in Virginia City, Nevada for the last few weeks (a temporary, self-imposed, period of isolation and reflection.) I’m in a little RV, not much bigger than a gypsy wagon. It rocks and creaks in the daily winds, like an anchored boat. Sometimes at night, I partially wake and think I hear rigging, clanging on a mast. Sure, I’d heard about the “Washoe Zephyr” and neighbors had warned me about “the winds.” But, Seriously? This wind is relentless and almost sentient (demonic.)  Then there’s the humidity, or lack of it (many days in the single digits.) Visitors, and most of mine come from the coast, cannot comprehend the cascade of symptoms that result from a simple lack of moisture. They never drink enough, even when they think they are. And then there’s the altitude, and the UV index, and the unique personalities that are drawn to inhabit this strangely beautiful spot. But I’m going to save those for another day.  I’m thinking of starting up the...

"Inquisite" 24"x24" acrylic on raw canvas, ©2017 Anna L. Conti Who am I? Where am I? How did I get here? What next? When I first decided to move to Reno, my decision was based on the presence of the few factors I found essential to our (Dave's and my) survival: 1) Quality, accessible healthcare for Dave 2) Low cost of living 3) Low cost housing  4) Community of artists and independent thinkers  In the twenty months since we moved here, Reno has delivered on these essentials and given me much more - natural beauty in all directions and all seasons, the best friends and neighbors a person could hope for, and an astonishingly vibrant food, coffee & beer culture. Dave told me on more than one occasion that the last year and a half were the best of his life. For that, I'm grateful. But I was too busy keeping all those balls in the air to take more than casual notice of a few peculiarities about this place I now call home. Now that I...

After moving here (Reno, NV) from San Francisco last year, I figured things were going to be slow for awhile, until I made some local connections - WRONG! I set up my studio for small work - WRONG! After getting a couple of large commissions (too big for my little wall easel) I thought I could paint outside on my deck, since these commission were probably just a fluke - WRONG! I started looking around for another studio space because I thought it would be too hard to tear this space all apart and build a bigger easel - WRONG! I woke up one morning, stressing about getting to the new (borrowed) studio with all my paints, etc. And it finally dawned on me: I should just take three or four days and restructure this studio to serve my needs and things would get a lot easier, duh. So I did. And now, I'm getting down to business:

Yep, I live in Reno. Who’da thunk it? I still get wistful about Los Angeles (especially the art museums) but I don’t miss San Francisco. People, yeah - I have friends scattered all over the planet and I miss them and I always have. I can’t be everywhere at once so  I’m always missing somebody. The solution, to paraphrase the old Stephen Stills song, is to friend the one you’re with. And boy, did I luck out with my gamble on Reno. Not only does one of my oldest best friends live here, but my new friends in the neighborhood are the best kind: warm, generous, sociable, and artistic! A real bonus here is my new studio. It’s large, private, has lots of natural light, plenty of storage, and a potential gallery space on site. I’ve already got a running start on a new painting series I’m calling “Unreliable Memories,” mostly based on vintage (personal) film stills.  Reno has a vibrant art scene and I plan to jump into it this year. Besides the studio painting, I’ve al...

"Fat Cat", acrylic on canvas, 18"x 24", ©2014, Anna L. Conti Last night I finished the painting, "Fat Cat" which, along with the previous painting, "Dinner With Friends," marks a new direction for me. I'm done with realism, documentary, and narrative work. I'm still struggling to define what I *am* working toward, but I'm willing to take the rest of this year to figure it out. "Transitions" is probably as close as I can get for now. "Dinner with Friends" was a ten year project that started out as an abstract meditation on SpaceTime and ended up as a more personal record of a time & place: "Dinner With Friends", acrylic on canvas, 24" x 48", ©2011-2015, Anna L. Conti