Okay, I rushed this.
I’ve been On the Ball this week. All my videos and the PDF for True to You 2 were finished and posted by noon, today, without me having to sacrifice sleep or sanity. I got my to-do list down, more or less (less, mostly, because I’d much rather play in my journal than work on it!). I cleaned out my inbox so I can get to all those messages I said I’d answer later and then never did (though one got lost, and was re-written today). I’m trying to get more organized so as to show the Universe I am ready for all these opportunities coming at me, and that I’d like some more, please!
Thursday was to be spent painting with Becca, but we ended up wandering Hobby Lobby and then the closing Borders nearby, hunting for magazines to cut apart. Have you ever gone wandering with a friend? The excitement is catching, and you just have such fun pointing things out. And then dinner.
I know the image of an artist is one who spends days alone in the studio, painting and dancing and listening to music. Or working all the time (I have a few artistic friends who work much longer hours than me, dedicated to their businesses). Which is a lot of it. Art takes introspection, time to reflect and go inside yourself to tap into your soul to figure out what it is you need to say.
Note need, not want. There are words inside us we’re screaming in our heads — or images or concepts — that must come out. And art or writing is how we do it.
But here’s the problem. When I sat down to work on my paintings this week, I didn’t have anything to say. I still have things that are processing, are being mulled over (my journal is getting a lot of attention as of late, and has changed, once again, in style and intent). So what to do?
First, I worked on a canvas I started months ago and never finished. And found a message in it through the symbols and bits I was drawing. I figured out what I said above — that I’m not scared of all that’s happening, not feeling unworthy, but am ready for more. Ready to go beyond this little apartment in the desert and expand further than I can see. Can imagine. And I think you’ll get there, too.
The second is just a doodle. A small scene.
When I asked my brother, “Is this done?” He grasped the first painting in his hands and said:
“I love it! I want to have it. Can I have it? Can I hang it in my room?”
I can’t think of a better compliment.
Here are this week's canvases: