Category Archives: decisions

conflicts

I am so fickle when it comes to this blog – some days, like this day, I want to release it. But then, I don’t because there are the other days when I need it. It is a space for me to say what I don’t say, to say what I don’t paint, to say what I can’t dismiss. That sounds a bit egotistical, any form of artistic expression could “seem” that way (and some of it is – the “some” being the ones who do things for attention and are propelled solely by monetary gain- but mostly art is something inside that needs to find a space outside and it is, actually, the opposite of ego – it’s spiritual and humble. Anyway, on this day in the middle of the week in the middle of summer I am asking myself questions, questions about my art. These questions could apply to any internal struggle, but for me, it’s about art. I am thinking that writing is stealing time I should be painting. The canvases, boards, and ideas are stacked in my studio – neglected and threatening. I know that these blog entries seem somewhat trite and simple but they aren’t for me – they rattle around in my head and take up time and space and when they finally do materialize in the form of “sketches” I then reread and question how honest I have been and push myself to reveal more – it gets complicated and it is a drain sometimes instead of the Zen like place I intended it to be – a place where only positive words appeared and optimism proliferated. Well, that kind of went by the wayside, as they say, and life nudged me into writing crusty words like these. As in literature, there always exists external and internal conflicts to keep things interesting and this blog has found its way on the firing range of my life – in the middle of a skirmish.As I said, I am not driven by ego nor do I have an external motive – I just have always done art and it is something I must do – I know you can identify with this – this “thing” inside that you must do. For some, it may be travel or sorting and organizing or it may be cooking or devoting yourself to a cause, but “it” is there in all of us and it can create a struggle because the “noise” or should I say, the “music”, never stops.

 In the meantime, and in an attempt to go back to the beginning, I am posting a picture that I took this morning that symbolizes the exact reason I wrote the first word on May 4 of 2008. I looked out of my window and amongst the tropical sized weeds and the endless rains , I saw beauty and that is why , 4 years ago, I came to this computer and recorded those feelings  – this blog kept me in a nearly constant state of appreciation of the little things that are, indeed, the beautiful things.

“It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all”
Laura Ingalls Wilder

Liberation

I spent a bit of time revamping my blog this morning – a reflection of what I am trying to do in all aspects of my artistic life. Some days I want to just toss out the whole deal and not do art – no writing no painting – it is so possessive of my thoughts. I always knew it was a burden, this desire to create. It keeps you captive; it keeps you from being “normal”. I don’t do other things because I “need” to write or I “need” to paint or I should be promoting my art – it never really leaves me. That is exactly why when I was raising my family I put it all aside – I knew it was all or nothing for me and I wanted to do the best possible job I could with my kids. Well, they are, for the most part, grown and I have begun again and it has gripped me. When I think of letting it go, I instantly know I cannot. This is why I am turning this blog into my liberation – I will sit here when I need to and I will write what I need to write without concern of anything more than just releasing what I have formulated in my head. I have nothing preconceived or contrived – it’s raw. And if, along the way, you can connect to something I am thinking, then it is worthwhile in a broader sense; it becomes more than just the freeing of random inspired thoughts, it becomes a contribution.

The day was wonderful – spent inside doing left brained things like organizing a closet and pictures and domestic things like scrubbing my kitchen floor and folding all of the clothes in the laundry room. Sandwiched between these tasks were the moments I spent here, writing. I had a pot of coffee on nearly all day and I wrote and had coffee – staying inside of my head for the biggest part of the day. It is Mardi Gras in the outside world – parades and revelry that I no longer have to attend – I am so happy that that part of my life as a parent is over! Let me say this now, “I hate parades”. There, done…That felt good. I did step outside this morning for a bit to gather eggs from my hens. I have 9 new baby chicks in the laundry room waiting for the warmer weather to move into their new home.
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questions

we do not know the full value of our moments until they have undergone the test of memory. george duhamel
I rely on my memories to make my past a special place and to , later, make this time better. This time is a bit challenging, decisions to make, jobs to do, directions to take, never knowing if I am choosing the door with the tiger behind it. I will go through January with an effort to be optimistic and enjoy the sights and the reveal of this barren season, all the while leaving behind moments that will become memories.
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