- Published on
A Trapdoor in the Psyche" - oil on Yupo, 19.5 x 19 inches This item is sold unmounted and unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
A Trapdoor in the Psyche
Click on the DOWNLOAD link to listen to the blog.
A handful of times a lifetime, if you are lucky, an experience opens a trapdoor in your psyche with its almost unbearable beauty and strangeness, its discomposing unlikeness to anything you have known before. Down, down you go into the depths of the unconscious, dark and fertile with the terror and longing that make for suffering, the surrender that makes for the end of suffering, not in resignation but in faith. It is then that the still, small voice of the soul begins to sing; it is then that the trapdoor becomes a portal into a life larger, truer, and more possible — a kind of rebirth. - MARIA POPOVA
There is an art to handling life's more challenging experiences.
Similar to creating art, it requires a lot of practice (and a lot of failure) before it can be wrangled or mastered. For me, these experiences that open a trapdoor in the psyche are something I can intellectually understand, but to feel the way through the experience in my heart and body (like a dancer, or sculptor or even a painter) is something I struggle with. It's all there, up in my head, what I should do, what will move it along - but how do I put it into play?
Similar to creating art, it requires a lot of practice (and a lot of failure) before it can be wrangled or mastered. For me, these experiences that open a trapdoor in the psyche are something I can intellectually understand, but to feel the way through the experience in my heart and body (like a dancer, or sculptor or even a painter) is something I struggle with. It's all there, up in my head, what I should do, what will move it along - but how do I put it into play?
Part of the art of the trapdoor is being present with where you are within it - are you in the terror and longing? Are you in surrender? Are you in the singing of the small voice of your soul? Not forcing, just accepting, having faith that it is, indeed, a process that you will move through and emerge from - you see, I know this, but doing it is something else entirely. Sigh.
But I am learning to look at these experiences as I would a painting - some of them emerge from their "ugly" phase and become something radiant. Some are just practice pieces that are huge fails on their own, but teach me something that will make the next one easier, better, more. These small, incremental shifts in seeing challenging experiences just a little bit differently will one day pay off. Just watch - I'll be gliding my way through effortlessly and gracefully. Well, that's the goal, anyway.
But I am learning to look at these experiences as I would a painting - some of them emerge from their "ugly" phase and become something radiant. Some are just practice pieces that are huge fails on their own, but teach me something that will make the next one easier, better, more. These small, incremental shifts in seeing challenging experiences just a little bit differently will one day pay off. Just watch - I'll be gliding my way through effortlessly and gracefully. Well, that's the goal, anyway.
About the art: hello, Yupo - it is always nice to be on your playground, where layers build brilliantly and paint glides like butter. For this piece, the main focus was capturing the mottled tones of the main character's face, which came only after the 80 millionth layer. But at that moment - voila! Such satisfaction. The folds and lines in the clothing are created by using a small rubber wedge to carve back through the paint. Yupo is the only substrate I've found that this works so smoothly with.
The August Reader Giveaway is in full swing! One (or more) lucky readers will win a free piece of art! Just subscribe, read and comment anytime in the month of August to enter. Already subscribed? Just comment to enter! Comment multiple times during the month and be entered as many times. WHOA! Wonder Mike LOVES sending free art each month. The winner will be announced here in the blog at the end of the month. Ready? Set? ENTER!
- Published on
"Number is Portal" - oil on gallery-wrapped canvas, 30 x 10 x 1.5 inches.
(listen to the blog by clicking the "Download" button above)
Science is thought by some to be dry, technical, and quantitative. It is not. Study is exaltation. Fact is miracle. Number is portal. Understanding is joy. - STEVEN NIGHTINGALE
"Study is Exaltation I" - oil on cradled wood panel, 12 x 6 x .75 inches.
"Study is Exaltation II" - oil on cradled wood panel, 12 x 6 x .75 inches
We spend a lot of time in the wild.
And also many hours getting to the wilderness and returning home again.
The passenger window becomes a viewing portal on the long drives, with an endless display of clouds, mountains, fields and trees.
And also many hours getting to the wilderness and returning home again.
The passenger window becomes a viewing portal on the long drives, with an endless display of clouds, mountains, fields and trees.
"Understanding is Joy" - oil on cradled wood panel, 24 x 12 x .75 inches
"Study is Exaltation III" - oil on cradled wood panel, 12 x 6 x .75 inches
The hither and yon views are often so good that the passenger feels a little bad that the driver cannot take photos. We take turns driving, of course, but the clouds in the morning are vastly different from those in the late afternoon. Which is better? It is always a surprise.
And so I have a large digital file of pictures from the road, which inspired this series of abstract landscapes (abstract-scapes) and a full immersion into capturing that mood while in the studio.
Study is, indeed, exaltation. A form of worshipful reverence for the things our eyes get to see, and the wondrousness of what we pass through from here to there.
"Study is Exaltation IV" - oil on cradled wood panel, 12 x 6 x .75 inches
About the art: these pieces were all painted alla prima (wet into wet), beginning with a very wet background of darks and building the layers in increasing thickness toward the lights. What I learned through many iterations is: the details get in the way with these - a hint is better than full disclosure, a clue rather than an answer. For several pieces, I fell into the mistake of overly detailed fluffy clouds, which looked, I don't know, contrived and meh. A squeegee across the wet paint immediately improved everything. After a long drying time, a final coat of varnish on the wood-based pieces added depth and deepened the darks.
It's time to begin the August Reader Giveaway! Subscribe! Read! Comment! Be automatically entered to win an original artwork - FREE! The winner will be announced at the end of the month. Ready? Set? WIN!
- Published on
Valin and the Flying Monkeys. (listen to the blog post by clicking the DOWNLOAD button below)
00:00
00:00
Listen to the blog here!
“Valin and the Flying Monkeys” - oil on Yupo, 20 x 26 inches. This item is sold unmounted and unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
Valin could not escape the flying monkeys.
His mother said they appeared when he was born. Bat-like monkeys who clung to him and hovered over his bed, and who later followed him to school and back again. He and his parents spent many a day trying to figure out why on earth he was cursed with the creatures. The village holy man gave Valin talismans and charms to scare off the winged nuisances. The local doctor prepared tinctures and tonics for the harried boy. His siblings tried using sling-shots to scare them away, but they only flew higher and higher, circling like vultures until the coast was clear. Nothing moved the beasts from his side and his airspace.
Once he became a young man, Valin embraced his entourage and found them quite comforting. Finding roommates who could deal with the mess and constant chatter was another matter entirely.
Valin could not escape the flying monkeys.
His mother said they appeared when he was born. Bat-like monkeys who clung to him and hovered over his bed, and who later followed him to school and back again. He and his parents spent many a day trying to figure out why on earth he was cursed with the creatures. The village holy man gave Valin talismans and charms to scare off the winged nuisances. The local doctor prepared tinctures and tonics for the harried boy. His siblings tried using sling-shots to scare them away, but they only flew higher and higher, circling like vultures until the coast was clear. Nothing moved the beasts from his side and his airspace.
Once he became a young man, Valin embraced his entourage and found them quite comforting. Finding roommates who could deal with the mess and constant chatter was another matter entirely.
Oh oh OH and here we GO!
Another piece inspired by a friend. This one a result of a conversation about narcissists and flying monkeys. I simply could not get the winged minions out of my head, and so they appeared in the paint. In this case, the airborne companions became comforters instead of manipulative messengers. Protectors instead of attackers. A way of extending energy outward and upward.
That's one of the things about art, I suppose. It allows us to transform one idea into another. Because there are no limits other than our own imaginations. xo
Another piece inspired by a friend. This one a result of a conversation about narcissists and flying monkeys. I simply could not get the winged minions out of my head, and so they appeared in the paint. In this case, the airborne companions became comforters instead of manipulative messengers. Protectors instead of attackers. A way of extending energy outward and upward.
That's one of the things about art, I suppose. It allows us to transform one idea into another. Because there are no limits other than our own imaginations. xo
About the art: another piece on dreamy Yupo, involving many layers and lots of drying time. The goal with this painting was to catch that bit of light on the boy's face and forward hand, to play with fabric and folds and to amp up the value contrast. Playing the "hard" red/orange background against the soft earth-toned left side border felt really effective. And the diagonal bit at the top right gives a sense of depth and movement.
Thank you to everyone who left comments this month and entered the July Reader Giveaway! Wonder Mike had a tough time choosing, and so there are THREE winners this month. Congratulations to Charlynn, Lisa C-G and Thamer! Please send your mailing address to Wonder Mike at thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com. A new contest begins next month! Huzzah!
- Published on
The Oddity of Octavia
“The Oddity of Octavia” - oil on paper, 22 x 17 inches. SOLD
Octavia caused quite the controversy when she first moved to town.
No one really knew what to make of her - was she an octopus? A monster? A lady who needed some good dental care? A sea witch? She practically floated down the sidewalk on her way to the market, all those tentacles moving in a fluid dance that left one wondering if she ever touched the ground. Though the townsfolk gave her a wide berth, she was never really alone. Oddities and peculiarities accompanied her. Their adoration and passion for her was well beyond the average public display of affection. Ahem. Look the other way, if you can.
No one really knew what to make of her - was she an octopus? A monster? A lady who needed some good dental care? A sea witch? She practically floated down the sidewalk on her way to the market, all those tentacles moving in a fluid dance that left one wondering if she ever touched the ground. Though the townsfolk gave her a wide berth, she was never really alone. Oddities and peculiarities accompanied her. Their adoration and passion for her was well beyond the average public display of affection. Ahem. Look the other way, if you can.
Um, so here's the thing about living in a two-artist household: we cannot help but influence (challenge, critique) each other. Malcolm encourages me to push boundaries; to move waaaaaay outside the box.
And he's not the only one.
Once upon a time, more than a handful of years ago in a stellar on-going art class in south Florida, the instructor told me to "embrace the peculiar" - she saw that direction in my art way back then, and she gave me the courage to keep going when the inner censor/critic said "whoa, Nellie!"
And then there are those of you, dear readers, who are also drawn to the peculiar side of things and grab these pieces for your own. Thank you - you make me feel downright brazen.
And he's not the only one.
Once upon a time, more than a handful of years ago in a stellar on-going art class in south Florida, the instructor told me to "embrace the peculiar" - she saw that direction in my art way back then, and she gave me the courage to keep going when the inner censor/critic said "whoa, Nellie!"
And then there are those of you, dear readers, who are also drawn to the peculiar side of things and grab these pieces for your own. Thank you - you make me feel downright brazen.
What are your thoughts about boxes and boundaries in art? What is the role of the artist in redrawing those lines? How do you push outside of your "normal" and into the more unexpected? I'd love to hear!
About the art: I have a digital folder of inspiration ideas and images for days when I feel confident, adventurous and mischievous. This piece was inspired by one of a dozen or so concepts the AI bot and I worked on for several days. The AI bot loves (LOVES) tentacles and octopods. And female faces. Beginning with gesso'd oil painting paper, I drew a rough sketch with a wet brush and blocked in the darks. Oil painting paper wants many layers of glazing to get the color to pop, which works well with a rough sketch, as there are a lot of refining moves required to get the angles and proportions just right. The requisite 80 million layers of paint followed. Funny enough, the hardest thing to resist was the urge to whiten/brighten all the teeth, which are meant to be a bit yellowed and dingy to add a bit of the horrific. I settled for something in the middle. It makes me rub my hands together and say "muhwahahahahah".
It's the last week to enter the July Reader Giveaway! Leave a comment and automatically be entered in this month's random drawing for a free piece of original art. Thanks so much for your participation!
- Published on
Have Coffee With Your Demons
"Have Coffee With Your Demons" - pen and ink on Yupo, 9 x 9 inches. This item is sold unmounted and unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
You should dance with the skeletons in your closet.
Learn their names,
so you can ask them to leave.
Have coffee with your demons.
Ask them important questions like, "What keeps you here?"
Learn what doors they keep finding open, and kick them out.
- Pierre Alex Jeanty
You should dance with the skeletons in your closet.
Learn their names,
so you can ask them to leave.
Have coffee with your demons.
Ask them important questions like, "What keeps you here?"
Learn what doors they keep finding open, and kick them out.
- Pierre Alex Jeanty
This piece was inspired by a friend and Facebook follower, who posted the quote and also threw down the challenge gauntlet when I oooooh'd and aaaaaahhhhh'd over the words she shared (thank you, Erica!)
It's been a post-it note on my wall for more than a month - HAVE COFFEE WITH YOUR DEMONS. Oh oh OH! I have so many (so so so many) ideas and inspiration images around this concept.
"What keeps you here?" I ask the demon. Slowly, relentlessly, I am closing those open doors.
It's been a post-it note on my wall for more than a month - HAVE COFFEE WITH YOUR DEMONS. Oh oh OH! I have so many (so so so many) ideas and inspiration images around this concept.
"What keeps you here?" I ask the demon. Slowly, relentlessly, I am closing those open doors.
About the art: Yupo loves pen and ink. I use a Rotring Tikky Graphic pen with pigmented ink, which glides easily and has a consistent output (no unexpected blops or skips). In general, I design a pen and ink piece around a small square or rectangle, resisting the urge to expand the scene or add too many details. I want the feeling of intimacy - a spotlight on the figure(s) and the moment. I don't pre sketch on the Yupo, which is a throwback to the wabi-sabi of my early days of doodling. I do measure out the critical parts - size of a face, proximity to edges, etc., but then it's a free for all. Often, this means a few failed attempts (no erasing here, no painting over! a trust-fall with ink!) but it does force me to be present and to contemplate every stroke of the pen. Pen and ink meditation, anyone?
The July Reader Giveaway continues! Leave a comment (or several) this month - each comment counts as an entry! On July 29th, one (or more) lucky readers will be selected at random by my trusty studio hound to win a piece of original art absolutely free. Thanks so much for participating - your comments, feedback and energy make this little creative space extra special! xo
And here's a little something that just sets my creative sparkle on fire - I need a warehouse studio!
And here's a little something that just sets my creative sparkle on fire - I need a warehouse studio!
- Published on
The Wildling
“The Wildling” - oil on Yupo, 14 x 23 inches. This item is sold unmounted and unframed. (Click on the image to purchase)
Ebba’s very existence was a matter often debated among children, especially around the campfire or at a sleepover after dark.
There wasn’t a single human who could say they had actually seen Ebba. Sure, pies and potatoes went missing. The henhouse sometimes had no eggs in the morning. Random bits of beads and feathers were left in their place - as payment, perhaps? Oh, there was more than one youngster who was double-dog-dared to stay up all night in the yard in hopes of catching a glimpse of the elusive wildling. Inevitably, sleep overtook each one who tried. But someone, something covered the sleeping youth with straw, moss and leaves.
It was enough to give them goosebumps, but no explanations.
About the art: once more I find myself playing with flat color and bold contrast, trying to push the limits of darks and lights and marry them with muted flat tones. The Yupo allows many washes and layers of color in silky smoothness, but also lets me scratch and carve back into the paint easily to create texture.
Somehow I image myself as Ebba when we're hiking in the wilderness - sprouting horns, ears lengthening and softening, hair becoming (more) scraggly and stringy. It is an oft repeated theme in my work - wildlings, wild child, re-wilding. Methinks it is a rebellion against becoming overly civilized. :)
It's the July Reader Giveaway! Leave a comment (or more than one - each comment counts as an entry!) on any of this month's blog posts. At the end of the month, one (or more) lucky winners will be selected at random to receive a free piece of art. Huzzah!
- Published on
Awaiting Myself on Both Sides
"Awaiting Myself on Both Sides" - oil on clayboard panel, 14 .25vx 18.5 inches. (click on the image to purchase)
“I am the shore and the ocean, awaiting myself on both sides.”
― Dejan Stojanovic, The Shape
“I am the shore and the ocean, awaiting myself on both sides.”
― Dejan Stojanovic, The Shape
I am the solid ground of the shoreline, the. mountains, the rocks, cliffs and loamy forest floor. And I am the tempestuous, ever-changing ocean, sometimes with rip currents and sneaker waves and other times glassy and warm against the feet wading within it. We don't have to be one thing or the other - we can be both.
We live in polarized times - black and white, one way or the other, you're ok or you're not.
But really we are ever-changing beings, growing and transforming with each day, each experience and every thought and interaction. It is really alright to wake up one day and be the mountain, and another day the ocean. We are many-layered, complex beings, expansive and ethereal.
I've spent a long time trying to put myself in boxes that no longer fit (or did not fit in the first place). This includes creative boxes - trying to make the things other people think I should be making, or that the market says are hot, or that my skill level feels comfortable with. Oh no OH NO!
Do you find yourself sitting inside those boxes, too? Let's bust out together.
But really we are ever-changing beings, growing and transforming with each day, each experience and every thought and interaction. It is really alright to wake up one day and be the mountain, and another day the ocean. We are many-layered, complex beings, expansive and ethereal.
I've spent a long time trying to put myself in boxes that no longer fit (or did not fit in the first place). This includes creative boxes - trying to make the things other people think I should be making, or that the market says are hot, or that my skill level feels comfortable with. Oh no OH NO!
Do you find yourself sitting inside those boxes, too? Let's bust out together.
About the art - I began with a happenstance series of inspiration images generated by the AI bot (I love when it surprises and delights me!) and then choosing the elements within those images that called to me. I sketched directly onto the clayboard with walnut oil thinned oil paint, then began building the layers. To achieve the effect of water, I applied many light layers of glaze drawn across the clayboard horizontally with a wide rubber wedge. Lots of drying time between layers! Resisting the urge to overly define (what is the dark rectangle in the upper left? The viewer's eye gets to decide) - walking away before mucking about too much.
It's time for the July Reader Giveaway! Leave a comment on a blog post this month and be automatically entered in the drawing for FREE ART! Woot! Your participation helps me, helps others and adds some sparkle to the universe. Thank you!!
- Published on
The Sea is Emotion Incarnate
"The Sea is Emotion Incarnate", oil on linen panel, 10" x 10"
"Reject All Shackles", oil on aluminum panel, 12" x 10"
(click on the images to purchase)
“The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eragon
"Reject All Shackles", oil on aluminum panel, 12" x 10"
(click on the images to purchase)
“The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't.”
― Christopher Paolini, Eragon
Malcolm and I spent a lot of time by the sea.
Walking, wandering, climbing up and down (boulders, cliffs, dunes, rock piles), wondering and pondering. Paolini is not wrong - the sea IS emotion incarnate. Its moods, its faces, its tides and tumbles.
Sometimes the ocean gently laps against our feet in the warm sand. Other times it pushes us away with its fierceness. Once it grabbed me off a rock pile - a sneaker wave which gave me a taste of terror and then relief (I was soaked and muddied, scared and surprised but not swept away. Never ever turn your back on the sea.)
Walking, wandering, climbing up and down (boulders, cliffs, dunes, rock piles), wondering and pondering. Paolini is not wrong - the sea IS emotion incarnate. Its moods, its faces, its tides and tumbles.
Sometimes the ocean gently laps against our feet in the warm sand. Other times it pushes us away with its fierceness. Once it grabbed me off a rock pile - a sneaker wave which gave me a taste of terror and then relief (I was soaked and muddied, scared and surprised but not swept away. Never ever turn your back on the sea.)
Reject All Shackles
Mostly, like the wild creature it is, it defies capturing.
I've painted it over and over again. In detail, in texture, in color and without. It is elusive, rejecting all attempts to define it. Here in these small pieces, I strove for minimalism - the sea in simple line and color, the sunset over the sea in all its cotton candy glory. I can hear the sea laughing, knowing it remains unshackled by these pieces. Knowing I will try again.
I've painted it over and over again. In detail, in texture, in color and without. It is elusive, rejecting all attempts to define it. Here in these small pieces, I strove for minimalism - the sea in simple line and color, the sunset over the sea in all its cotton candy glory. I can hear the sea laughing, knowing it remains unshackled by these pieces. Knowing I will try again.
Congratulations Michaela! Wonder Mike chose your name at random as winner of the June Reader Giveaway! Send your mailing address to thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com and your original piece of artwork will be on its way to you. Thanks to everyone who participated!
- Published on
Many claim to have found God in the mountains. I don’t know what God is, but I admit to having sought her there too. Whatever my search, I have found that the pursuit of scientific inquiry — its own, necessarily limited kind of truth-seeking — can be as much an act of devotion as it is scholarly meditation. For to pay attention to the world, to seek its stories, to run your fingers along some crack of rock or furrow of tree bark, to admire a raptor in flight, to look, closely, at the construction of a previously unencountered wildflower — to wonder and to seek answers to how these things might have come to be in the world — are themselves acts of devotion, ways of knowing, ways of longing for communion. - RICHARD J. NEVLE
"Acts of Devotion" oil on paper, 18 x 14. (click on the image to purchase)
Acts of Devotion
I see you there, creative human.
Yes, YOU!
I see you wondering and seeking. I see you finding new ways of seeing, being, thinking and knowing. These acts of devotion are sacred, somehow. A living meditation. A prayer spoken with hands, eyes, ears and feet. A daily pilgrimage to the holy place.
This space here, this tiny (teeny tiny hardly a spec on the internet) blog is where I seek your stories and share my own. A place to pause for brief moments and allow words and art to infuse us with their magic. A place where the complexities, sorrows and joys of life might be illuminated - just for a second. And most of all, a place to enjoy the connectedness of art-hearted humans and their own sacredness.
In case I don't say it enough (or have not mentioned it recently), I am extraordinarily grateful to each and every one of you who visits here, who reads, who may share a story or a thought, who reaches out to me privately to share how something has touched you. It never fails to surprise and delight me that this space exists at all, let alone attracts stellar sparkle-humans to participate in it. Whoa. Wowowowowowow. Thank you.
Yes, YOU!
I see you wondering and seeking. I see you finding new ways of seeing, being, thinking and knowing. These acts of devotion are sacred, somehow. A living meditation. A prayer spoken with hands, eyes, ears and feet. A daily pilgrimage to the holy place.
This space here, this tiny (teeny tiny hardly a spec on the internet) blog is where I seek your stories and share my own. A place to pause for brief moments and allow words and art to infuse us with their magic. A place where the complexities, sorrows and joys of life might be illuminated - just for a second. And most of all, a place to enjoy the connectedness of art-hearted humans and their own sacredness.
In case I don't say it enough (or have not mentioned it recently), I am extraordinarily grateful to each and every one of you who visits here, who reads, who may share a story or a thought, who reaches out to me privately to share how something has touched you. It never fails to surprise and delight me that this space exists at all, let alone attracts stellar sparkle-humans to participate in it. Whoa. Wowowowowowow. Thank you.
A little something that makes me smile - the podcast genius of Thea Fiore-Bloom (https://the-charmed-studio.simplecast.com/). I've been listening to these podcasts in the studio while painting and planning. And let me say this: at the end of each one, I've both learned something helpful AND feel like I've been seen and hugged. How does she DO that? Check it out!
About the art: this one, inspired by some AI prompts (which were, in themselves, a response to a hike photo I took) was painted alla prima (wet into wet) over many days. Building the layers of darks and lights, allowing them to dry and then adding a layer of walnut oil to work on top of them in glazes. The goal here was loose, loose, LOOSE! Etheral, foggy, soft lines, suggestions. And now I am totally hooked on wet into wet painting. Yum.
- Published on
Dolores on Tuesday
"Dolores on Tuesday" - oil on cradled wood panel, 24 x 12 x 1.25. Ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)
“I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief.”― C.S. Lewis
Sometimes, when we peel back the onion of anger, we find deep sorrow, grief and mourning.
Anger feels purposeful, feisty, empowered, action-oriented and (often) satisfying. Grief, on the other hand, feels all of the opposite things - weak, low-energy, motionless, heavy. It is so much easier to be mad than to be sad.
And so I am learning to be with my grief. To let the feelings wash over and through me, buffeting me about a bit, seeping into all the nooks and crannies. I am learning to be uncomfortable without pushing it away. The more I practice this, the easier it gets. And somehow, it is expansive. I feel larger inside, instead of tense and tight and retracted.
Dolores relaxes into her grief and oddly manages to make it look cool. Who knew?
“I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief.”― C.S. Lewis
Sometimes, when we peel back the onion of anger, we find deep sorrow, grief and mourning.
Anger feels purposeful, feisty, empowered, action-oriented and (often) satisfying. Grief, on the other hand, feels all of the opposite things - weak, low-energy, motionless, heavy. It is so much easier to be mad than to be sad.
And so I am learning to be with my grief. To let the feelings wash over and through me, buffeting me about a bit, seeping into all the nooks and crannies. I am learning to be uncomfortable without pushing it away. The more I practice this, the easier it gets. And somehow, it is expansive. I feel larger inside, instead of tense and tight and retracted.
Dolores relaxes into her grief and oddly manages to make it look cool. Who knew?
About the art: for this piece, I wanted to experiment with flat colors, line and contrast. A long, flat brush held at a distance. Hard edges. A paint-laden rubber wedge pulled across under layers. Unexpected color. Deep darks. Oh!
The JUNE READER GIVEAWAY is here!
This month I'm wondering - what YOU do to refill your inspiration tank?
Leave a comment below. One (or more) readers will win a piece of art - FREE!
This month I'm wondering - what YOU do to refill your inspiration tank?
Leave a comment below. One (or more) readers will win a piece of art - FREE!
