I drew up three works today for my new series.
I could draw another one but it’s after 11 and I should get to bed.
Early rise and all.
I hope I can sleep.
I’m not sure where to go from here.
I can’t figure out the opposite of flowers.
So….
Night, all.
Let’s just go to the graveyard
And lay our souls down
Take the weight from off our shoulders
And place it on the ground
Let’s just go to the graveyard
And find a place to sleep
Beneath the willow trees,
the mistletoe
the beggars in the street.
Baby Allie, on this earth for a mere 22 minutes.
“And the soul takes flight to the land that is invisible, and there arriving she is sure of bliss, and forever dwells in paradise”
Enjoy the new world, little one. I haven’t earned my place there yet.
For the morrow.
Evolve.
I feel like life is beautiful.
I want to expand on that but words wouldn’t do it justice.
There was a man on the side of the road today with signs up, needing money. My husband, who probably has less in his wallet than anyone I know, stopped to give him five dollars. Money we don’t even have. When the man took it and looked Brennen square in the eye with gratitude, my heart nearly broke.
The world is shit. Such shit. And it’s so beautiful I want to cry.
One of my best friends put money into my account so I can go to the dentist and get my teeth fixed. I can’t look him square in the eye with gratitude because he is countries away…and even if I could my eyes wouldn’t do it justice.
The world is shit. Such shit. And it’s so beautiful I want to cry.
I gave a painting to a girlfriend who suddenly finds herself in an office with no window. It was nothing, to me, to give her a gift. When she mentioned payment I ought to have smacked her…you guys will NEVER know how much pizza I owe this woman. And I just love her.
And today, as Parker naps and Brennen works out in his studio, I am going to finally start that commission of baby Allie. I assume the photo was taken after she died but there is such a smile on her face.
The world is shit. Such shit. And it’s so beautiful I want to cry.
There are no words to express anything, sometimes.
We’re just atoms, colliding and screaming and painful and bliss.
A fingernail down my back couldn’t begin to describe it.
But I love how, as humans, we try.
So I suppose it’s upward and onward.
A list of upcoming work.
1. commission of Allie
2. commission of Sophie and Ella
(these top two can be done concurrently)
3. painting for Italian exhibition
4. diptych portrait (gift)
5. new series (8 drawings already done, might do another 12)
That’s 25 paintings.
I wanted to have my series completed by April but I spent my January on the unexpected panels, instead, so I’m short a month. It helps that 8 of the works are already drawn, and that the works are small.
If I shoot to have the two commissions done this coming week, then spend the next three weeks of February on the diptych and Italian piece, maybe I can spend the month of March on my new series.
Well, it all sounds good in theory, at least.
But I also have to start running again, for the sake of my sanity, so that’s two hours of each day already gone.
And the past two days have been positively wiped with a killer toothache, so here’s hoping that eases up.
And….you know….life.
I will figure this out.
I promise myself.
Some footage from TLG opening.
It’s in his jeans.
A couple of people have asked me if I was happy with my most recent piece. With sadness I realised I wasn’t. I just figured out why.
Paintings will always be at their *most* beautiful to me when they’re still in progress.
When they are half blocked in.
When there is one pupil, instead of two.
Half a smile, half a leg.
When the clothing line ends abruptly into the endless vacuum of negative space.
When what is painted in stands boldly against what is yet to come.
If this is the case, can I just stop painting halfway through? Can that be my bid, can that be my plea? Can I leave them when there is still potential brimming and screaming, when there is still work to be done?
Because all I know is that yesterday when I walked into my room they were beautiful, my figures, all around me and waiting to be played with. And now, finished and polished on the wall, they hold no joy for me.
This is my new problem with art.
I look forward to my next two commissions.
RSS Feed