All Hands on Deck

I use my hands to create my art; I bring what is inside outside through the agency of my physical body, most specifically my hands.

Yesterday, when writing (also using my hands) my blog post, I noticed I used the expression at hand. I caught myself musing about the expression to hand, an expression I think is the British version of the same concept, i.e. to have something conveniently nearby. 

Similarly, if someone or something is on hand, they are nearby and able to be used if needed.

Then there's the word handy which gets rid of the above potpourri of prepositions altogether.

So, the opening sentence of yesterday's post started with these words:

    I continue to grab what's at hand.

I could have easily have said any of the following:

    I continue to grab what's to hand.

    I continue to grab what's on hand.

    I continue to grab what's handy. 

Or, I could have phrased my thought in the manner of my youngest sister, Marjorie, who as a child evidently subconsciously sorted out the existing options and created her own:

    I continue to grab what's on handy.

On handy! Top choice, hands down, and one that remains in my active personal lexicon.

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I have moved my current neuroart experiment along since yesterday, and here's what I have on handy to share with you.

work in progress

The Light of Attention

I step from my study into my bedroom, thinking I've forgotten to turn out a light.

But, no! The light left on is early morning sunlight bursting through the eastern-facing skylight to splash onto wall, chair, carpet, and dresser with unabashed brilliance.

Something else that finds its way to my attention this morning: a line from the novel I am currently listening to.

Shake hands

with your decision

and move on.

Unabashed Conversation
4 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, oil pastel, and collage
on card stock
abstract
2022

Movement

Start.

Stop.

Turn upside down.

Done.

Stay in motion—on to another.

Groundless Theory
3.5 x 5" postcard; acrylic, pastel, and collage on card stock
abstract
2019

Slapstick 12/18/17

Today: some random collage scraps handpainted with black latex—can't remember when I painted them. Plus, a cockeyed notion to make something out of nothing. Slap. Stick.

I fiddle a bit and then, the first time I feel any sort of visual satisfaction, I stop.

Without evaluating whether or not the piece is 'complete.'

Without worrying it like a dog with a bone.

It's an experiment. It has fulfilled its creative purpose.

Now it will go on to live a happy life as a postcard sent from me to my dad in Maine. Hi, Futh!

4x5"; acrylic, collage, and pastels on paper,
mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]