Did'ya miss me? *G* I missed you!
This week was my "vacation." If you've ever worked retail, you know that getting 3 days off in a row is very, very rare, but somehow, I managed! And got paid for one of them! So I spent my vacation at home playing in the studio, writing, and just lazing around on the couch! How wonderfully fantastic...
But now I am back and ready to go!
On Friday, I finally caved and bought nice, expensive brushes.
For the last four years or so, I've been getting by on value brush sets and $3 single ones from craft stores. You know, the ones with the plastic handles? Well, I always got the ones with nice grips and stuff. Oh! And takkon, because that's my favorite.
ANYWAY, I went to Michael's on Friday and bought NICE brushes. That were about $8 or $9 EACH. It cost a pretty penny, and I was skeptical -- they LOOKED the same, and were by the same company, so why were they so expensive? Was there REALLY a difference?
I sat down and started playing around with them, not really seeing a difference. But it was fun none-the-less because whee! Journaling is ALWAYS exciting and fun. Right? *G*
I had this painting I'd started a few weeks ago sitting next to me, and looking at it, I just...didn't feel it. It had been sitting there for so long precisely because of that, and I KNEW it was meant to BE something, just was a bit bored with the same ol' drawn ink girls.
I put on some loud, funky music, opened the new colors I grabbed at the same time as the brushes (because who can go into Michael's and come out with JUST what they went in there for?), and just SPILLED them onto the canvas.
Over the things I'd drawn. The papers collaged. EVERYTHING. Covered it all. And then just started drawing with the paint and mixing on the canvas, completely and totally lost in the act of CREATION.
When I finished, I went downstairs with the canvas and said:
"This is completly different than anything I've ever done before, and I don't know where it came from, but I love it."
And showed it to everyone there.
(I'm really bad at taking photos of paintings for some reason...)
It is SO DIFFERENT. But I love it. It looks FABULOUS hanging on the wall downstairs...it's the first thing I see when I come home or go downstairs, and it makes me SMILE. Isn't that what art's all about?
It didn't have text on it yet, though, and I was playing around in my journal with my sumi-e ink and the small brush -- the new, expensive one.
OH MY GOD!
THEY MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE!
Usually, it would take a LOT of patience to write with ink. The brush usually separated a bit, creating whisp-aways, you know, those one or two bristles that don't conform to the shape anymore? So my words would have these little outlying lines and I'd have to twist the brush a certain way to avoid them, and things didn't flow all that well....etc, etc.
With these nicer brushes, it FLOWS. The brush follows intricate twists and turns and works BEAUTIFULLY. As you can see from all these journal pages, I wrote on every page I could find, as well as the painting. I LOVE IT.
I can't help it -- I want to write everywhere and everything now. I can't wait to continue painting with these nice brushes, discovering new things!
I also have made more changes in my life, aesthetically (see list above - click for full size).
I've noticed, at least at work, that because I act childlike and innocent, finding joy in the smallest things, dancing around, grinning and playing, that I'm treated like a child. Why is that? I'm a grown woman who has lived through a LOT: abuse (no worries, not parental), a cancer scare (binine tumor), chronic illness, having to care for a sick mother (and raise my brother), financial matters -- basically having to do a lot on my own. I've traveled the world, navigated the Social Security system, made appointments, travel arrangements, even moved across the country (only to return). I am a mature, intelligent woman who chooses to celebrate life rather than strive to control it.
I wear my heart on my sleeve. Call everyone sweetie or hun or sweetheart. I am there to support and love. And yet, I find that these attributes scream immature to some people. Yes, I can be serious when the situation warrants it. I can take care of things in a crisis. I think on my feet, and quickly. I am decisive. Opinionated.
I feel as though something is shifting, a sliding of plates covering the Child and exposing the Adult. Not necessarily replacing, but incorporating. Is it too much to ask to be respected? Treated as an equal?
My artwork IS whimsical, something which "established" artists seem to look down on, with their complicated oil paintings or realistic scenes of daily life.
Why are we all so scared of the childlike?
I don't know where this tangant came from; sometimes it helps to just write things out. I wish I could spread my joy to everyone, but some people seem to be so focused on CONTROL, they can't except that life is RANDOM and here to be enjoyed. A precious gift.
Ah, well. I shall be me. Because it's too exhausting to be anyone else. ;)