Risks and Itches

Taking risks, scratching itches.

Willing to Risk Being Vulnerable
3.5 x 5.25" postcard; acrylic, ink
and collage on card stock
abstract landscape
2021

 

Like Snow, Falling One Flake at a Time

pray for wisdom to
be an agent of change, use
your voice. celebrate!

work in progress

all paths lead where truth is here [e.e. cummings]

in winter after-

noon light I am a pilgrim

hark! revelation!

work in progress; 
lost myself in the pure joy
of mixing paint and applying it with palette knife
over roughly and irregularly textured surface

Decision Distancing

We're all well acquainted with physical distancing, that set of measures intended to prevent the spread of a contagious disease by maintaining a physical distance between people and reducing the number of times people come into close contact with each other. Thank you, COVID-19, for affording plenty of practice with that guiding principle. 

Then there's what I call decision distancing, that set of measures intended to prevent decision burnout by making one overarching decision with clear mental distance from a particular set of circumstances, and then sticking to the decision in the heat of any moment that puts one into close contact with the identified set of circumstances. If you want to cut back on desserts, don't do your decision-making with a piece of chocolate cake on a plate in front of you and a fork in your hand!

In the heat of a moment, late yesterday afternoon, in my studio, while I stood with paintbrush in hand, and work-in-progress in front of me, my gremlins started yammering. Ugly, ugly, ugly. You don't know what you're doing. This is stupid. Who has time for this nonsense? 

I was ready to throw in the towel. My chest was heavy, my mood horrible.

But I backed away, got a good night's sleep. This morning I reasserted—this time from a distance, away from my studio—my overarching decision to commit to daily painting, adding to the decision the words regardless of outcome. 

Whew! Much better.

Back to painting. Decision made. End of discussion.

Back to experimentation. Back to engaging with discovery. Back to attuning myself to the flow and therapeutic energy of process. Back to the physical act of playing with paint.

didn't like this postcard, got out the black gesso

buh-bye, red and green

wanted to play with blues, played with blues

happy hand with paint on it

Oxidation

 I think I might need to up my antioxidants. I'm feeling rusty.

Huh. As I take in the opening sentence above it occurs to me that maybe the challenge facing me is conveyed in the first two words: I think. 

Thinking isn't working.

But, here I am. I went to my studio again today, fiddled around with cutting postcard-sized pieces from my evolving in-process painting, added a bit of collage.

Action.

OK.

rusty postcard!

Staying the Course

I've got sort of a reverse of advent going on here—instead of counting down the days to Christmas, I'm counting up the number of days I get to my studio, the number of layers I add to my December exploration. My inquiry: what happens if I keep showing up in my studio and taking micro-actions? 

After four days:

zoomed in a little on work in progress—
layers of acrylic, texture stamping,
 Posca paint pen linework, and India ink

Cyber Snafus

After too many months, I finally take action against many perceived odds and much ineffectual spinning of wheels, get myself to my studio, put some paint on paper, post at my blog. Not just once but three days in a row now.

And then run into cyber snafus. Not all subscribers receive email notification of my posts. Others do but are not able to comment.

REALLY??!

For now, the only step I know to take is to keep returning to my studio to paint. That's my repeat ACTION plan.

having fun playing with posca paint pens,
popping in touches of purple and blue

more application of paint directly from tubes,
with fingers as tools for mixing and moving color

Let It Flow!

My internal weather is frightful;

Can't get calm, though, try as I mightful,

But since I've got paint set to go,

Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow!

paint straight from the tube,
moved around with my finger

detail;
more colors, finger painting and mixing

Motion, or Action?

I recently shook my feathers from head to tip of tail just enough to loosen up the inner gumption to subscribe to mailings from copywriter Meg Peery <megpeery.com>.

She promptly rattled my cage (am I mixing metaphors? maintaining one? doesn't matter) with a discussion of motion vs. action. 

If I stop now to examine metaphors—feathers, cage—or explain the difference between motion and action, I'll be in motion but not taking the action that aligns with my inner inklings.

I need to take the action of posting to my blog for the first time in weeks to document the first time I've picked up a paintbrush in my studio in months.

Studio as repository for all manner of items related to renovations going on elsewhere in my home:

Action taken just now:

grabbed a page of quality paper
from an old calendar,
grabbed a paintbrush (marketed as a makeup brush),
grabbed a jar of black gesso,
painted gesso onto paper:
ACTION