Some might look at today's outcome from my time in my studio and see a scribble. My mom, for example, were she alive, would probably see just that and wonder why I consider it art.
After a considerable stretch of discomfort with my art in recent weeks, I reveled in a totally satisfying free-flow of expressive creative energy today, and, when I look, here's what I see hidden in plain sight on the page:
• I'm missing my dad today. Again. Still. Piercingly.
• Jane Davies has been exploring an inquiry related to scribbling for which I am grateful.
• My studio is a mess.
• I have been feeling bunched up, aimless, dissatisfied with recent paintings I've started.
• I miss making postcards for my dad.
• We're having a gentle snow day here in my neck of the woods.
• Sylvia and I have been talking tons about all manner of topics tied to art and to our own personal art.
• I'm wearing the chickens-and-chicken-wire pattern sweater my mom knit for me decades ago.
• I picked up a new book at the library this afternoon and have an engaging audiobook in progress also.
• Dave and I watched a fascinating webinar last evening about elements of musical genius in the songs of the Beatles.
Can you see it all?
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| Pain Pushes Until Vision Pulls 4.5 x 6"; acrylic paint marker and water-soluble pastel on a book page abstract 2023 |
