- Published on
"The Wild Edge of Sorrow" - oil on canvas, 15 x 30 x 1. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
[Shame] is unspeakable because we do not want anyone to know how we feel inside. We fear it is irreparable because we think it is not something we have done wrong - it is simply who we are. We cannot remove the stain from our core. We search and search for the defect, hoping that, once found, it can be exorcised like some grotesque demon. But it lingers, remaining there our entire lives. anxious that it will be seen and simultaneously longing to be seen and touched with compassion. - from The Wild Edge of Sorrow by Francis Weller.
Even as the skies are watering us with spring, it seems there is a great weeping sadness in the world.
Perhaps it is just my own clouded view, my own lens, my own filtering of news and social media posts and lessons learned (an often deep source of shame) and recent loss.
[Shame] is unspeakable because we do not want anyone to know how we feel inside. We fear it is irreparable because we think it is not something we have done wrong - it is simply who we are. We cannot remove the stain from our core. We search and search for the defect, hoping that, once found, it can be exorcised like some grotesque demon. But it lingers, remaining there our entire lives. anxious that it will be seen and simultaneously longing to be seen and touched with compassion. - from The Wild Edge of Sorrow by Francis Weller.
Even as the skies are watering us with spring, it seems there is a great weeping sadness in the world.
Perhaps it is just my own clouded view, my own lens, my own filtering of news and social media posts and lessons learned (an often deep source of shame) and recent loss.
The Wild Edge of Sorrow
And yet...here in the studio where the will god prods, there sits a book on the supply shelf waiting to be digested. Recommended by a divinely creative friend and collector, Weller's book unpacks sorrow in a way both scientific and spiritual. As that book sits in my own two hands, the lightness of connection, compassion and being seen lifts the burden of loss and says, "Lola, you are not alone."
Here in the community of tender hearts (artists, writers, sensitives, creators, collectors, deeply feeling humans) we can put wings on each other simply by seeing and saying. As one tender heart commented last week in the blog, "I've learned that I'm not alone in these feelings anymore and that really helps a lot..." Whoa.
Here in the community of tender hearts (artists, writers, sensitives, creators, collectors, deeply feeling humans) we can put wings on each other simply by seeing and saying. As one tender heart commented last week in the blog, "I've learned that I'm not alone in these feelings anymore and that really helps a lot..." Whoa.
About the art: after a long, rambling creative session with the AI bot, from cyborg fairies all the way to ballet, a tiny snippet of one of the resulting images inspired this piece. Beginning with a canvas toned with the general range of background colors planned for the piece, I drew a colored pencil sketch and lightly painted in the shapes with thinned oil paints. The key to this one was keeping the abstraction of the figure and background, so many big steps back as I over-defined and had to dial it down again. Ending with a final coat of thick paint applied with a palette knife. That pop of minty-ness makes my mouth water. Yum.
Wonder Mike and Lilly selected TWO winners from the April Reader Giveaway commenters! Congratulations Carol K. and Kelly M! Send your mailing address to the shipping hounds at thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com and your big prizes will be flying to you in the post. And thanks SO much for participating!
wow.