Musings
Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side is usually the answer. To get to the other side, but it's risky to cross the street these days. It is usual in my area to lock chickens up as many wild predators sneak through the woods, into this subdivision on the edge of marshlands, near the river. The interruption of lockdowns and masks, and lack of punishment for crime, make me stay home as much as I can and not be out in public much. I'm older now and unstable because of my weight and knees, and terrible older back. I struggle.
My mind shouts at me, I'm a Free Bird, not a chicken, which to me means I've always had to find my courage, I couldn't have been that scared, and yet I feel I was always the watcher, not the participant in my early years. Somehow, comparisons took place, a shy me inside had me silent, knowing how little I knew. I learned a lot,
I was a working musician, a fiddler. I wasn't bad I set my niche and was asked to play with many very fine and wonderful musicians. I grew in it, I never completely got out of my shell for many years, having so many hurdles in daily life to overcome, working so much, and burning my candle at both ends, made the parameters of my self-discovery, becoming aware of self-doubt, limitations, and overwhelm, added to medical problems that were not being solved, made me vulnerable, sometimes the wrong people could take advantage of me. I didn't make much art after I graduated college, no money, no time, no place, no energy, and no thoughts toward it. I did admire other people’s talents, but could I even rise?
Many years had past since I had any time or place to make art, or discover it again. I found myself in a small town where I didn't know anyone, I took a class at the library, a drawing class, and a few others. There wasn't a right or wrong way. There were many different ways, the women who shared the class with me were also making art, all so similar in project but unique as the creator. This phrase stuck in my mind, it was something I had been looking for for many years. It spoke directly to the unworthy feeling that had always held me back. In God's eyes, “a flower blooms, it is beautiful, and another blooms next to it and is also beautiful; neither one turns to the other and compares itself to the other, they all just bloom.
When I paint, I have a freedom I have never felt before. I am blooming. I make a painting, I eventually see it as finished, and I go on and make another. The enjoyment and feeling of God's guiding hand on me is so vital to my life. The paintings fill me with excitement, I transcend somehow, I no longer judge my art, I allow it, I'm happy for it, and I share the creation, it is a piece of art. The canvas is out on its merit, it stands as its own painter’s journey, a moving transitional piece of time; the only thing I ask of it “Is it something to go back to? Is it engaging? Surprising? Something to go back to look at again and again?”
I hope you enjoy my portfolio displayed here on my website. Please take a few home, and come and see my latest body of work. Let my work speak to you, Enjoy the art, buy a poster or tee shirt or wearable art tee shirt, and Watch for my new novel. Pick up “The Artist's Family,” my first novel, chat with me, receive an occasional email, and stay in touch.
