In spite of the fact I’ve very recently told you that it’s possible to fit your art into the small spaces of your life, I was starting to stress yesterday, wondering how it was all going to work, really.
I got up before sunrise and jumped right into it. I was deeply inspired and excited. I started my day writing. There were two big posts I wanted to do. It was fun and exhilarating, but it was taking more time than I thought it would (sound familiar?). I wanted to paint, too! But I wrote on and it continued to be nurturing and soulful. However, the clock was ticking. I finished late in the afternoon and told an anxious Kelee we’d go for a walk, and I told myself I’d paint when we got back. The walk was invigorating and beautiful. It was very cold and snowing lightly, the music on my iPod reviving.
When I got home and set everything up to paint, though, I looked at the clock, thinking about feeding the animals, and acknowledged I was totally wrung out. I was tired from a very good day of creating and I was done. That’s when the worry set in, and the hand wringing (I know you all get this, too). Was it really going to work, writing this blog AND finding enough time to paint? I began to try to control it all. My brain was spinning, piecing it all together.
Then something altering happened: I remembered how much I had loved writing today and, in that moment, I accepted that the blog is a new and welcome part of my art. I thought about my controlling nature, and how art is supposed to spring from enthusiasm, not discipline, and I knew Spirit was telling me I had to let go. Isn’t it simply amazing how we learn and unlearn the same lesson over and over again, in as many forms as it takes, until we get it? The universe is relentless! Good thing.
I made supper for us all (Have I mentioned before that I have SEVEN, count ‘em, SEVEN animals? That black cat you keep seeing in my photos is actually three black cats) and settled in to watch a movie. The evening was gentle, the movie good, and as I was readying myself for bed, it occurred to me that I was restored! In letting go of my need to produce, in allowing space to rest and relax, my mind and body were rejuvenated. I had energy! I felt inspiration nibbling at my heart and thought, “What the heck?” and I went into the studio to paint.
And what a magnificent session I had!
First, I sketched the big piece. Yay! What FUN!
I played, some, with the black lines on the square painting and then started working on the large canvas. Both of these are Llano Series pieces. The smaller one is what I call my gray and whites and the other is a horse painting. This is just the first layer on both. Many layers will follow.
Here’s a good example of “erasing”. I wasn’t happy with the shape of one of the horses so I used white paint to take out the parts I didn’t like and then reformed it using black.
Then I noticed something very cool: Taken in small pieces, the large painting was actually a group of abstracts coming together to create the horses. I think this may be the next version of my horse series being born! How cool is that? (Are you seeing this, Bill Franke, over there in the mid-west?)
Something to always be aware of, in our work, is what I call surface quality. We all know about enjoying paintings from a proper viewing distance to get the best effect, but how a painting looks up very close is important, too, I think: The kind of stroke, the lay of the paint. So keep this in mind as you make marks on your sub-straight and play with it.
Take a look at the two pieces I’m working on together. Even though they are different, you can see they are by the same artist and born of the same inspiration: My walks on the Llano. I love that.
So it was 1:30AM and I had to get to bed. I was done for the night and at a good stopping point. I pulled out three small paintings to base coat another time.
I went to bed with a deep sense of gratitude. The universe had made its point: It IS possible to do everything I’ve taken on. And, not only is it possible, it’s NECESSARY. It was meant to be. Writing, painting and photography all fit beautifully together. They feed each other. I just have to let go and allow it all to unfold, as it’s intended. I don’t have to control anything, just listen to the messages, present myself to the work and be nurturing of my artist self. The universe supports it so it will happen naturally, organically. It truly is a magical journey. Are you with me?
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