“The Bridge Inspector” - mixed media on reclaimed wood. NFS
CROWD: Get on with it!
NARRATOR: Oh, anyway, on to scene twenty-four, which is a smashing scene with some lovely acting, in which Arthur discovers a vital clue, in which there aren't any swallows, although I think you can hear a starling -oolp!
- from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Narrative Interlude Two
(The lights have flickered and the movie reel is running, so let’s grab our seats and see what’s next with King Arthur and the odd knights of Camelot...)
Artist’s dates. Those lovely excuses to go out and play. Thank you, Julian Cameron, for coining the phrase and for assigning these playdates as necessary. Because most of us do not, will not take time to do something for the pure joy of it unless we’re told it is a task we must complete. Why is that?
What does play do for us? As an artist, it gives me new inspiration, a relaxed mind to better approach creativity, a fresh perspective. As a human, it gets me out of ruts, routines, rigidity and makes me go with the flow. Even if that flow is cancelled flights, unannounced gate changes and contractors quitting on the job. A little time away helps me see each of these as an opportunity for something new to happen.
Don’t get me wrong. Routines are good. Showing up day after day, putting in the hours and effort - this all pays off. It is not to be abandoned! But to be stepped away from now and again. If you are at all like me, the more you settle in to a routine, the more you expect things to go as planned. And it is that expectation that sets the stage for frustration and for missing the opportunity in the flow. So get thee away on an artist's date.
And now to this piece of art, The Bridge Inspector. It is painted on a piece of wood salvaged from my dad's garage after his passing. The paper bits are from old letters found in his files, including one to my grandfather, Pano (which was misspelled in the letter) and some old bank statements. This character’s shirt is created from my dad's college architectural drawings. The pants are from his college dictionary. And the background, a deep red, from the paint in his studio. The first painting created from the pile of aging artifacts which didn’t make the box of sentimental things (I say box, but it’s truly more like a footlocker) but are too delightful to send to the recycling bin.
Now for your viewing pleasure, a little clip of the wild and crazy guy I got to see this past weekend - he's my favorite honky.