I’ve been working on finding my voice with my art. I’ve tried Ebrú, watercolor, oil, acrylic, pastel, sublimation dyes, all sorts of art styles. I seem to be an artist who likes to play in all the paints, and all the styles.
Most recently I’ve created a painting inspired by 2020. I used paper from a lampshade my dog decided to eat – as I believe our pets often lead us to our creative intentions. Clearly this paper was meant for more than mere light filtration.
I used dictionary pages and words as a backdrop, and watercolor and metallic paints, and quilling paper. I added and tore away, I used the metallic paints to mimic kintsugi techniques along the tears in the paper. I wanted to capture the loss and the healing of the pandemic.
It hits me the hardest when I put down my luggage. A stillness settles over me as my heart remembers you are no longer here to promptly sit on it while I try to put everything away. I am defeated.
I will carry the memory of the loss of you with me for several more days before it settles back into the reality of my existence and the loss begins to be normal again.
You aren’t sitting on my lap and incessantly demanding I lie still to make up for the time we lost when I was away.
You aren’t rubbing against my face when I try to use the computer, insistent that all attention should be paid to you. I’ve never had an easier time writing.
You aren’t tripping me on the stairs.
You aren’t batting my face in the night.
You aren’t.
Managing life with chronic illness requires savvy spoons
SavvySpoons 