Joy

Today was a blissful, dreamlike day.  It came easily. It rolled out of the universe and into my lap.  I didn’t even ask for it.  I didn’t warn it I was coming. But it was ready for me.

Nothing particularly special happened.  In fact, it was bookended by some tricky and emotionally fraught episodes.  Stuff to concentrate all my energy and empathy on.

Nothing special happened apart from the Joy of simply knowing what I am doing; what I am about.  I listened to a podcast or two (the robcast is great), got my hands messy and got totally lost in the sheer joy of painting.  No questions asked.

I came across an Instagram post last night that outlined the artist’s struggle to  make “beautiful, feminine art” in a sphere which does not think this kind of work is serious. It resonated with so many of my experiences of being told my work was “too decorative” ‘too twee” and “too reliant on words”.  I realised actually that most of the people who told me those things were  part of the established,  male dominated world of Art. It was a mini epiphany. I reminded myself of all the artists I have loved and drawn from through my journey, Joseph Cornell and his amazing boxes, Tom Phillips and his altered books, Gustav Klimt,  master of over the top decoration (all that gold!), Gillian Ayres (colour!), Alice Kettle, is Alison Woloughby, Janet Arkell, Elizabeth Blackadder, Jackie Morris.....and I realised I have gathered things from each of them.

I remembered my battle cry from before the Fine Art took over......there is no such thing as “High Art” or “Low Art”, no such divide as “worthy, serious and meaningful” and “fun, playful and exhuberant”, no artificial wall between ‘Art” and “Craft”. There is only human expression of the human experience.

My work doesn’t stand alone and all of these artists are testament to the worth of beauty in Art, the power of Joy expressed.

,

It I’m realising that I have freedom to enjoy making Art.  I know that sounds obvious, but perhaps others who have strained through higher education and come out the other side bruised and confused as I did, with a whole array of things to unlearn will understand. 

I’m beginning to love it again.

At the moment it’s punctuated with some pretty hard stuff elsewhere in life. But, goodness, that makes the Joy moments more intense!

There you go.  I told you there would be ups too. 

Psalm

I don't like you,

But I do.

You chase me

And I run after you.

You pick me up,

 Make me fall in love,

Then drop me like a winter coat

You've grown out of.

You play with my mind,

My future, my heart,

Then you throw me against the rocks

And pull me apart.

You whisper of worlds of wonder.

You make me make believe,

You make me think I'm beautiful

Then you get up and leave.

You carry my burdens,

You let me rest.

You see my soul inside me.

You tell me I'm blessed.

You breath into my lungs.

You reach out your hand.

You show me the route map

And the lay of the land.

You find me in the void.

You melt a rainbow over me,

You cover me in colour

For my enemies to see.

You cause me to falter,

You cause me to weep.

You cause me to question

The company I keep.

You want to teach me more,

But I've lost the will to learn.

You want to make me richer,

But I have no power to earn.

One day with you is a hundred,

A hundred is a day.

My hands are tired and aching,

And I think you like it that that way.

You've brought me here so weary, 

Too many times before;

This ever-changing new place,

On this side of the door.

I can't keep stepping through

When I don't feel there's a way,

When my breath is falling out of me,

Like the light out of the day.

I am truly done.

I've missed the mark, you win.

So here I end as always;

I end and you begin.

Absence and reaquantance

This is my first morning back in the studio after too long an absence.
Everything is quiet and untouched.
It's a strange mixture of scary and comforting to return here after 8 weeks away.  I am both desperate to be here and daunted at the prospect.
Being an artist brings with it the necessity to fine tune your awareness of your emotions and to be at peace with them, whatever they are.  It's a struggle sometimes.

Today I'm returning after the summer, which is always a bit of a tricky time to create as I'm concentrating on giving my 5 boys a restful and fun break from school.  This year I have the addition of moving my mum into sheltered accommodation nearer us. She is living with Alzheimer's, and consequently so are we.  It's been a huge, upsetting, unsettling, emotionally and physically tiring effort and I feel what I can only describe as a little defeated by life at the moment!  It's coincided with a gear change in family life too, with three of the five now at secondary school, most evenings and weekends are now occupied by various clubs, activities, form filling, revision and homework. I'm also considering the need for me to find a salaried income to support our family in a more reliable way.

I have been left wondering where on Earth my creativity fits into all this. And I have to say, my conclusion at various points has been, and probably still will be at times, it doesn't.

There you go.

That's where I'm at.


So here I sit in my lovely, quiet attic studio, wondering where to start. If I should start.  That's the honest place I am.
I have read enough blogs and seen enough social media posts to know that it's somewhat against the flow not to be putting happy, colourful and sunny posts out there.  But that's not where I'm at and I'm hoping that this will find some resonance with a few of you.  Maybe tomorrow I will be brighter and that will give you hope that things can be brighter for you too.  If I don't share the lows like this, how will the better times ring true?

So, here I am again, urging myself to pick up a paintbrush and at least put some colour on a canvas in faith that inspiration will pick it up like a leaf in the wind.  I'm choosing to put Fear in the backseat (Thankyou Elizabeth Gilbert), and courage in my heart (Thankyou C.S.Lewis) and not expecting anything just yet, but some paint on the canvas.