For a long while, perhaps a year or more, I have been having a hard time artistically. I needed to get a part time job, and I did. Its a good job, I like it. As in most things I do, I jumped fully into the job, started taking more hours, I began volunteering for more work. Until I felt a huge void. I was experiencing a lack of focus on my own art, and it hurt my feelings. I became disconcerted. Grumpy. I made things, but nothing was stirring the well.
So what do you do when making art has become difficult? How do you reconnect with your art and begin engaging with it in a manner that bolsters and supports making? Often, in the past, I have changed media, swapping out dye for watercolor and paper. This time, I have begun cleaning (I am destashing and selling on Etsy, please check it out). Cleaning is magical, it moves energy and makes way for different things to come forward. I love cleaning.
Then, a few weeks back, my good man and I went to see the David Wojnarowicz: History Keeps Me Awake at Night. As we walked through the galleries at the Whitney, I was amazed at what we saw and touched to my very core at the depth and veracity of that mans’ work. I felt the spark of the burning creative fire, that I have been longing for. I could see a pathway to my own creative endeavors forming. I listened.
So, when I got home, I soda soaked cloth. Searched out imagery that I have been wanting to work on. Cut some freezer paper masks. I cleaned, and got ready to let the creativity flow. Geez, it feels good to turn a corner.
Please check out my Etsy! I would like to continue to make space for this change. There are artworks, purses, a bolt of fabric, and other supplies and all are priced to move. Help me make more space for change! Thank you.
I love these pieces. The textures in the design combined with the figure and the birds is wonderful. Isn’t it funny how suddenly a light bulb will go on and the path appears? As you know, I’ve been adrift for years. Nothing has lit my passion. So, I embroider, I draw, I try to paint. I go to the girl’s fort everyday, just to be with my supplies, hoping something will jump up and say “pick me!”. I was clearing out my camera card and came across some photos I had taken when Dad was in the hospital in Seattle. Part of the building was from the late 1800’s and had beautiful architecture that I photographed during the day and again at night. At the same time, we took flowers to my ancestor’s graves. There is an angel statue there that I have loved since I was a little girl and would go there with my Grandfather. The photos from that trip got me thinking about sculpture and can I express how it moves me on cloth? I’m going to try. I’m excited about something for the first time in eons. (Insert Big Grin!) Love you Melly!
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