Inspiration will come when you least expect it. My to-do-list was almost complete, back-to-school shopping, laundry, helping my little ones tidy up their rooms. I was not in the best of moods as I did not sleep well the night before. I went into my art studio and my eye moved toward 2 boxes that I haven't touched in awhile. As soon as I opened up the boxes nostalgia filled my small studio. I created these papers years ago and it just took one piece to fill my entire being with inspiration. I took a plastic bag, literally placed all these newly-found papers of mine and quickly walked into my reno house. The sun was setting and the natural light was fading but I kept creating. I included some of my journal entries; they hold such energy and warmth. I will call this new work 'Our Beautiful Flaws_1'. It all started with one small piece of painted paper; small yet meaningful. I just love these moments in time. Welcome to my bliss...
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I have two buttons I never knew I had. One is marriage and the other is being a mom. I was brought up to be fiercely independent and having children was not in my radar. As I stand in my centre, I look up and see my husband and my three beautiful children. I would not change a thing. They all take up most of my time, there is little time for me to create art but I manage. I have a very small art studio but I notice if I was to look for any of my children; my art studio is where I would find them. It is our sanctuary, our common place. All three of my children are creative souls. They are consumed with Fine Arts, Dance, Music, Design, Theatre, and reading. Books, paint brushes, CDs, ballet shoes and playbills fill our house; our home.
I am starting a new series of work. I am taking small steps. I took out all my art journals and writing journals and I noticed entries of tender moments and a lot of poetry. Poetry from the masters and poetry I created. Many artists I know start with poetry, a novel, a memory and these become triggers; these become the start of a new 'something'. Here is one of my entries: "I lie awake staring at the ceiling as my mind fill with moments. Moments filled with 'us'. I begin to send you a simple blessing as I say goodnight in silence. You have officially pushed a button. A button that I never knew existed. We have not kissed yet and I notice you keep looking at my hands...also my lower lip. The hands are the most romantic part of one's clothed body. I will wait for our hands to one day touch. It's not lost on me, that I too cannot help but stare at your hands, and your beautiful lips." To this day I believe the hands are the most romantic parts of the body. When two people's hands touch for the very first time and electricity runs through one's body, from ear lobes to toes, one is reminded that ~ yes I am alive and life can be beautiful again.
I tried to paint this past Sunday. I found a CD titled 'Mommy' in my messy art studio. The case had 3 CDs sandwiched into it and I took the top one with the writing 'Happy Mommy's Day'. I recognized the writing. It's a compilation of my favourite 80s music from my oldest daughter Kit. I played it using my husband's CD player. As the music from my childhood started to play, my mood lightened up automatically. I smile as frozen moments in time flashed in my memory. As Siouxsie and the Banshees, Tin Tin Duffy, New Order, The Cure and The Smiths all played in the background of our reno house; I stare at my "working" canvas. I decided to rework an old art piece. As artists, one magical trick we have is the power to turn mundane work into art pieces that we are actually proud enough to sign. My distinctive signature. If one looks hard enough at all the art pieces I've created to date, it is my 'a's that are so different. It depends on my mood when I sign my artwork; but good thing I only kept it to two styles of the letter 'a'. Black and white gesso, a sponge brush, a spray bottle with water and paper towels were my tools on that one Sunday afternoon. After two hours, both my hands were completely saturated with black and white gesso. I miss how my hands feel after being in the zone if only for a short while. I run my hands with warm water and soap that smell of lavender. Once I set my wet canvas to dry I hear, "Mommy I need help". Small steps is all I need to get back to my bliss.
I love days like today, the sun is out but it's not too hot or humid, well not yet. I have this idea that if I write about what I am thinking and finally get back to actually painting again, I will eventually get back to my centre. I have not created anything since we found out our beautiful daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It's been over a year now but it feels like a decade. No one in both sides of our families have T1D and so this news came as a WTF moment. An email came in the other day from a Toronto art gallery. They changed their website and I like how my page was all laid out. I adore the owners and curators. This is one particular art gallery I actually give a damn about. They know I haven't been painting. They know about my little one. The last email is one sent with loving hearts and a friendly reminder to me that I will get my fire back again, or more precisely that I never lost it. I don't feel that fire, but I do feel a small amber glow when I step into my messy art studio. My art studio full of blank white canvases, dry paint brushes and greeting cards everywhere. I love my family and friends, they shower me with hand-made greeting cards and letters and each one carries so much energy and love. Who gets hand-made greeting cards nowadays...I do. I made some attempts in sketching ideas for a new creation. I notice that one square that is all black is there again. My paintings are known for their brilliant colours and crazy happiness. I am still drawn to bright and vibrant paint colours I think, but why is that square back in my sketch book. Then a title came out of now where ~ 'our beautiful flaws'.
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