Song and Sadness

Song and Sadness

LISTEN to the blog by clicking the DOWNLOAD link below

​

​"Song and Sadness" - oil on canvas, 18 x 36 x 1.5 inches.  This is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)

​...we all turn out to be a rather weak watery solution of salts and carbon compounds, more or less jellified. You and I, with all that we eat and the various bacteria, fungi and viruses that live so happily within us, are a mingling of the wind and water and dust that constitute the surface of the earth. The miracle is that such stuff as we are made of should walk and talk and know such things as song and sadness.  - N.J. BERRILL

The boundary between my self and the natural world around me feels more porous when we're hiking in the mountains or when we're rockhounding in the ocean.  The wind and water and dust are part of me - I can feel it.  And the more I am around and in the ocean (and jellyfish), the more the barrier between my self and the jellified salts and carbon compounds erodes.

The miraculous part, as Berrill says so eloquently, is that this stuff we're made of has the ability to move and think and feel. 

And this becomes more manifestly obvious when the things we count on to move us (our bodies) or to think and feel with (brains and hearts) are glitchy or injured or off.  As a person who struggles with panic attacks, I can tell you there are times when I wonder if jellified me is melting back into the primordial ooze, flickering and softening at the edges.

At some point, we all return to the wind and water and dust  and that's ok, that's expected, that's the cycle we're born into.  But I think I'll enjoy the miracles that come along with my jellified self for as long as possible.

---

About the art:  Sometimes I throw stuff at the AI bot just to test the waters of its abilities.  What if I asked it for a root-vegetable inspired fashion piece?  Oh my!  It did not disappoint.  There were hours of giggling. :). For this one, I began with a rough sketch in thinned oil paint on gesso'd canvas.  Working light to dark and leaving the blacks for last, I used many layers of thin washes to give soft shadows and dimension to this wistful lady's skin.  Matching the technique for her vegetable adornment to make it almost part of her flesh gives this piece a bit of peculiar creepiness that I adore.  Saving the darks for last and using many layers to make them even darker, letting those darks have hard edges to contrast the soft contours of her person and vegetable matter.  She's quite a statement piece, and is very good company in the studio.  Now, how do I add root vegetables to my own wardrobe?

---

The October Reader Giveaway continues!  Leave a comment (or several) on any blog post this month to be entered.  The winner (or winners) will be announced on October 28th right here in the blog.