Two Sides of the Same Coin" - mixed media on double-sided wood, 18" x 7". To be leaned upon a shelf and rotated to suit the day. Inquiries: email@example.com
In just two days, a gaggle of queens will emerge from the Jim Ward Center in Plantation. Bossy queens, benevolent queens, crabby queens and encouraging queens - they will rule the classroom and dominate the rest of us as only queens can do. I am completely delighted to host this sold-out workshop for the Plantation Art Guild. But, as always, I am truly at the mercy of these regal rumpus-makers, who never fail to surprise me with their antics.
I didn't consciously decide to become an intuitive painter. It's one of those things that just kind of happened along the way. It isn't for lack of trying to be otherwise. Too many failed attempts at planned painting - it robs me of something I deeply require to paint well - surrender. Surrender and a path where I cannot see around the bend. A mystery. A story unfolding where I don't know the ending until it is right there. And then I gasp a little, open my eyes wide and then smile.
If you know me, then you've seen my lists, calendars, schedules...you know I am disciplined and inflexible and demanding and driven in most of what I do. Even my ex-husband once told me he would hire me for a job before anyone else in the world because I get things done. I plan an outcome and plan the steps to get there and then I march along that path with steely determination.
But painting! It is the yin to my yang. It gives me balance. It lets me meander, dawdle, follow tangents, lose my train of thought and let go of any illusion of control. I delight in its surprises and unpredictability; I wait with anticipation for it to jump out and startle me yet again. Painting is the beating heart in my own tin man. It softens me.
There will be queens this Friday. Many of them. Each with a story and a surprise in store for her painter. And I am so excited to meet them.