I have spent the past week lost. Lost in my paint and brush pile, my sketches, my journals trying to make some sense and order of what it is I am actually doing for my art show in two weeks’ time; lost in thought about a friend who was diagnosed as ‘terminal’ and how he is doing, what he is thinking and how he is making out overall; and lost in what it is I am actually really doing here on this planet (and what you’re all doing here too).
The Impending Art Show
What started out as a perfectly good painting style (clean, crisp, graphic, controlled, carefully planned out and orchestrated) for The Journey (the art show title for Andrea S’s and my work) has now morphed into some sort of decaying, layered, experimental narrative style. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love this new found expressionism but it’s not something I am comfortable with enough to sink my teeth into or know well enough to feel confident doing. I guess that’s the draw. Painting for this show has become a journey of sorts as I try to find myself and make sense of what I am doing and where I am going and ultimately, what it’s all for. Every new painting takes me deeper into the unknown and scares me to the point of excitement. I love each new piece I am creating and building: pouring myself, my feelings, my past, my life, onto the canvas and waiting to see how it will all gel together (IF it will all gel together) and what will come out of it. It has been an exercise in trust and faith and I have been very surprised at the finished canvases. In fact, as I type this out and look over at my drying canvases propped up against the wall, I am mesmerized at how my style is changing and developing as I give in to the flow and randomly create. I am lost in the journey and captivated by it, grateful for it — giving myself in to it and reaping the benefit of these beautiful narratives.
This seems to be a reoccurring theme for me: having to learn to not control everything and simply go with the flow. I think there are times when I need to step up and make things happen but ultimately, life seems to work out just fine when I leave things on auto pilot. In fact, I know I need to have more faith that the universe will take care of things and I should just really worry about my own little self and what little I (really) require to be happy.
My friend has been on my mind every day since I heard his news. I can’t stop thinking about him and how he has effected my own life, my decisions, my moving forward. He wrote me a heartfelt letter a few days ago that I have reread over and over again. I have cried each time I have read it. So beautifully, eloquently written, his words touched me so deeply and made me re-examine my own life, my priorities and the path I am on. We all effect each other, touch each other and influence each other: We are more powerful than we know.
I’ve hugged my friends a little harder this week, have really appreciated people, have shared more, sent out encouraging heartfelt notes and found a little more light in my heart for everything.