“Life is a Garden. Plant Joy!”
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On the face side, discovering silk stashed in the closet I wondered, “Why is this still here?” I moved it from place to place, undecided what to do with it. Finally after painting the Winter Solstice silk jacket, I thought I’d try the same with this.
Inspired by the “Two Sisters” pastel painting I’d done in 1979, the silk was more saturated.
I guess you could say the same about me, saturated.
I used to wear bold artsy clothing like this. OMG! Trying to think of when that was ~ I remember wearing stunning colors like this just before Mom died. It’s been 27 years!
Not wishing to open the door and look, I felt to hesitant to pick up the paint brush and work with this silk. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that feeling resistance is a sure sign there’s magic just on the other side.
“Feeling resistance is a sure sign there’s magic just on the other side.”
I picked up the paint brush ~ following the thread of inspiration is the path of lease resistance, a lot easier than talking back to the Creator.
Around the same time, these two oil paintings were sitting around the studio. Seems everywhere I turned ~ there they were staring at me.
Inspired by another painting I just couldn’t let go of, “The Pond Within,” I blew up sections of it onto canvases of their own ~ so I could explore.
Painting them felt so foreign, I actually used pics of the section to help block in each of the new paintings. While I was doing that, the images kept inverting themselves.
This may not seem weird to you. But after painting for 45 years, I have never done such a thing! If I want to draw something, I just do it. Following a pattern of my own making as if I’ve never seen it before ~ new territory.
OMG, that’s her! I see her peeking over the mountain. Like a stop-action flip book, she jumped to life on the pages of my journal.
She’s rising up!
Her heart is coming together in the center and filling her with energy!
She’s stretching her wings …
I couldn’t wait to see what she would look like in color! I transferred the small oil study to a large canvas and picked up the brush.
I didn’t get it right away.
I finished sewing the scarf, and thought perhaps the two sisters were myself as a painter and fiber artist?
Certainly I could see the symbolism of the goddess and the pond within as my Creative ~ divine and human selves. But there was more.
Writing articles I recognized a soul sister I’d overlooked. My mother, who taught me to sew, to garden, and encouraged me to paint ~ was the soul sister I was missing! She’d faded from my life, just as faint as photos in the album.
Sure I thought of her. But I didn’t recognize our divine relationship as soul sisters. To me she was still the mother who died before her time.
Now she is my divine partner in living. Her memory is vivid and so are the colors on my paintings. Together we tap into the goddess energy ~ divine inspiration that uplifts all of us together.
The garden below beckoned with aquamarine water and quiet seclusion.
I slipped on a suit and into the pool.
Floating alone, I wondered at the magic that brought me here.
Hollyhocks bobbed their deep fuschia heads above me. Sun-drenched clouds washed the Cerulean sky with light.
The first paintings were as dreamy and washed as lavender itself.
A good nights sleep didn’t make my trek to the lavender fields any less dream-like. Expecting vibrant purple filled fields ~ instead I discovered internet photos over saturated. A little past peak, like myself, lavender felt delicate and light.
The fragrance too, wafted in and out of awareness. Like the dream, illusive and uncertain.
After 35 years of painting with opaque mediums, Provence inspired my first works in watercolor. I opted for a pack of postcards and thin washes of paint when the sun proved to be just too hot to paint at the easel with oil paint. Sitting instead at a cafe table waiting for lunch to be served, I stuck the brush in a vase of water and began what was to become my “new direction.”
Later in my residency, I began experimenting with washes of oil paint thinned with turpentine. I picked up some willow charcoal and drew back into the wet paint, fusing the two media. By the end of my six week stay, things were feeling a bit more solid.
As I added pastels to the mixture of media, the paintings took on a more robust appearance. Controlling the new palette became difficult and winter gave me a time to dial back a few notches and work with earth tones.
Painting over top of the winter version, I lit into the palette with fresh spring colors the following spring. It sat for awhile in a half-way state, waiting for me to catch up and wrap my head around all the changes.
I wouldn’t have known that this painting was part of this collection at all, had it not been for a friend who came by the studio and pulled it out of my stack.
Of course when a painting gets pulled out and put near my easel it gets re-evaluated by my overly critical eye. And that’s exactly how this one got finished one last time. One or two last colours ~ well, I like it much better now.
C’est la vie!