Monday, March 28, 2011
Finally painted a little 8x8 that I was pleased with that says spring and cherry blossoms. Sweet Farmer says, "why does her hair go out like that?"
and I say- BECAUSE. it's whimsical, nostalgic... he doesn't get it. But that's okay.
I start to paint a more realistic portrait
and there she goes ...off on her own trail, her own story, her own little world.
It is one of my favorite travel destinations - that Alice-In Wonderland-rabbit-hole of my own imagination.
It is a room of my own.
Where do people go without this option in their lives? Is it arrogant of me to feel sorry for those who have lost the ability to imagine, to play, to design little vignettes, to paint their dreams, to write out the beats of their hearts, to sing from that sacred place . Where for moments in time there is no sense of failure or success, worry or demands.
It is just YOU spilling out, breathing out, laying it out- one texture, one color, one line, one twist of the brush. Where you smile at this innate object before you as you watch the life energy poured into it become something tangible, touchable, like the cherry bud that became the blossom overnight.
Don't you love that becoming moment?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
There is that strange pull in me this time of year when I look forward to the spring and the new hay fields and future work, and a part of my heart that dreads the long hours, the time away from paint, the time away from Sweet Farmer. I've had a lazy, dreamy winter and I have spent so much time in the house in front of the wood stove that I've gotten really soft... and spoiled.
I keep working in my journal and turning out faces to sell. Yes, I'm definitely painting to sell and Sweet Farmer hates it. But I have this venue, this window of opportunity to sell these faces, to let them fly me to Italy and I'm going for it. I'm still learning a little bit although there is not real art-muscle stretching going on over here.
WORK... real work.. well, it's easy to take the easy road these days. But it is coming.
Speaking of real work. My parents just celebrated a 54th wedding anniversary. I was visiting there and I got on you-tube and played "Until the Twelfth of Never" for them while they were still cuddled in bed. It was my parent's favorite song when they met, but my grandmother wouldn't let my mom play it at her wedding because she thought Elvis was evil. lol. It was such a beautiful song- it made me cry like a baby in front in them. The road hasn't been that easy for them lately, but they are strong spirits, never blaming circumstances, just taking the high road hike every time. It makes me proud.
So down deep, I know I have the genes to do the hard work when I have to. May God give us all a new spring in our hearts and spirits.