I framed my self-portrait. Feels weird to have framed art that is of ME. There truly is a part of me in all of my art. Sometimes in vague ways, sometimes in obvious ones. But to look at my own face hanging on the wall is…strange. Maybe I am worried that it is pretentious or narcissistic? Maybe it is a measure of my comfort level with myself? But truly, I create art that says something about my life experience always. My call to create is a call to express. And to do that, it helps to embrace the idea of myself as a creator. My self-portrait is a portrait of me, the creator. Me, the symbolist. Me, with flaws. Me, the work in progress. Framing this piece is also a way of embracing myself.
I am currently reading the Dark Tower series by Stephen King, just about finished with Book #4, Wizard and Glass. I am listening to the audiobook narration by Frank Muller (He is excellent and I am so sad that he dies before he finished the rest of the series!). There is this rhyme in the story:
‘Bird and bear and hare and fish, give my love her fondest wish.’
That line had been bouncing around in my brain the last few days and I was inspired to begin this piece. I am working in pastel on toned paper. This is still in progress, but I just found out that there will be an animal theme at one of the galleries in our local June Art Walk, so I guess that gives me some incentive and a deadline to finish it!
Continuing the sketchbook pages based off of random bits of rescued paper. I have several pages prepped with paper pieces pasted in, (say that ten times fast!) and when I am feeling like doing a sketch I draw over or around the piece of rescued “trash” on that page. This one had a torn corner of a paint chip that I found on the floor. It became a plant pot. The plant is one living organism but with many heads, some are closer to the roots, others are growing further away.
Some new ideas are bubbling around as well. Thoughts on another series that I might begin when I complete the Lyrical series that I am fleshing out at the easel now. Right now it is an idea for a theme, but it needs time to expand and develop in my mind (and my sketchbook) before I begin.
“The truly creative mind is inhumanly sensitive. To her a touch is a blow, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create so that without the creating of music, poetry or books , her very breath is cut off from her. She must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency she is not really alive unless she is creating.” -Pearl Buck