Where to Begin
It's been the strangest of weeks here in the river valley. I made it down to the studio once, but got nothing accomplished. It's crazy how fleeting and fickle creative urges can be. I had all the best intentions to finish several things when my CTS (carpal tunnel) flared up and has put me out of commission for the past three days. I am writing this and then taking the rest of the weekend off. My work in other areas has me on the computer more time than I would like, and I am trying to figure out a way to limit this even more. Everything seems to be in such a mish mash and I would really like to restore order to my work life.
I have about fifteen paintings in various stages of completion in the studio. This one was almost finished when I left the studio last week, and hopefully when I get back to it next week I will finish it. Not the best image taken with my phone. But you can see this continuation of a theme with the grid.
Sometimes I wish I could be one of those artists who paint quiet little landscapes, who seem not to let real life enter into their work. At least real life in terms of feelings and emotion. Real life in terms of do they ever get angry or frustrated, and why does all of the work look like they live their entire life on auto pilot, never allowing their frailty or humanity show. The beautiful people and their beautiful art. I envy them sometimes, but I can never be them, my art is messy. Messy, chaotic and manic, just like real life. To keep everything bottled up and not pour it out onto the canvas would drive me insane.
I learned on Monday of this week that my favorite nephew had passed away. He wasn't to much younger than me and he was one of the kindest people. Soft spoken, and a joy to be around. He was on an upswing in his life, and then he is dead. Died in his sleep. They will say it was a heart attack. His father died of a heart attack in his sleep a few years back. But what is it really when we just go to bed with the best of intentions and never wake up.