At times such as this, I think to myself, “It has finally happened! I’ve turned into a sour, cantankerous old man or a real version of the Grinch, evilly enhanced with severe PMS.” My monster transformation is always temporary, but I’ve remarked to my boyfriend quite often lately, “Sorry I’m scary lately.” I have my own personal definition of scary. My definition of scary includes that I’m not as delicate or tactful as I could be and that “I need some chocolate. You better get the Hell out of my way.” Or as Harrison Ford fiercely proclaimed in “Air Force One,” before he punched a terrorist in the face and saved the day, “Get off MY PLANE!”
As a high spirited (soon to be) 28 year old woman, who rarely has these spells, I think I have an understanding as to why I feel this way.
Today, like many other days prior, is a disgustingly sticky summer day in Southern California. As a practically translucent person (in person, you can probably see my prominent freckles and veins from 20 feet away) heat makes me physically sick, feel faint, and fogs my mind as if a sugar high toddler decided to play with a fire extinguisher inside my cranium. Needless to say, I’ve never been a fan of hotbox summers, especially when I’m desperately trying to write, run errands, execute public relations strategies, coordinate art applications, brain storm new works, among many other things all while the blistering coals of another Southern California summer steam up my glasses like nerdy Velma’s from “The Adventures of Scooby Doo.”
Thankfully, the good Lord created things like the air conditioned local library and the Coffee Bean so all is not lost in a dog day haze. If not for places such as these, I would hopelessly melt into a Salvador Dali clock puddle, and then transform completely into the Bride of Frankenstein, to the dismay of my boyfriend. If only I could bring my acrylics and canvases to such places without getting thrown out.
Onto why I’ve written this post! As I’m sure you can tell by now, new paintings don’t spring forth from me like expected constant sunrises or sunsets that are timed by the hour. Each piece I create comes to life in its own unique way. I’m a very organic artist and I’m excited in regards to the direction of where my life is going right now and the direction of where my art is going.
I don’t treat my art desk like a candy factory that quickly produces sugary empty pieces with no heart, which is why you don’t find new art from me constantly. Any time I create something and send it out into the world, I’m excited and nervous like it’s the first time all over again. I only publish pieces that my perfectionist brain and spirit connect with, otherwise I will store it in the dusty garage or keep working on it until I feel like it is worth being shared.
My most recent two pieces, along with a lot of old favorites, I’m happy to say, might be shown at the Sawdust Art Festival at their Winter Fantasy edition this year, if they accept me as an exhibitor. As a fan of the festival for over 20 years, I’m crossing my fingers and toes that my work has its place there. Below I describe two of my works that may be shown there.
The latest painting of mine, “Aspiring toward Equipoise” was a painting that hatched from a dream I had that stirred me. I dreamt that I was in an oddly abandoned town in the 1950’s, and my vision was in black and white. There were people around me who tried to force me to ride a biplane, which was fashioned like a carnival ride. I refused to give into what everyone else wanted, and did what I wanted instead. They flew in the biplane, and I was content with my decision because I didn’t have a good feeling about the town and the biplane itself.
My position of power in the dream encouraged me to create this piece. The biplane in the piece soars toward the viewer in an attempt to be “present” where it is, as it leaves the dreary, sometimes painful memories of daylight behind. The next stage is night, which is muddied because it is an untouched realm. The biplane is haunted by two things; the memories of what were, and memories of what will be.
The question of whether or not the biplane lands safely to its next destination is unknown, but the biplane proactively attempts to secure acceptance of where it is in the present and takes flight from there.
The next piece I’m excited to share is “Compelled but Hushed.” This piece, like a lot of my other pieces, was inspired by personal experience. During a certain time period, I felt unable to express myself fully without having to confront dastardly aftermath beyond my control. This painting confronts the complexity and the yearning behind those feelings, and the power that lies just below the surface of the face. I’ve discovered in life that not everything is black and white. I struggle sometimes with what cannot be categorized, defined or solved easily, and faith can sometimes be the most difficult thing for me.
As my art life propels forward, so does my personal life, full of new joy, experiences, and adventures. I look forward to sharing more of my art, pictures, and pieces of my life through this blog as it’s been a pleasure to do thus far.