recent musings/statements of pieces in progress

Untitled

"At the end of the line,

i can stay or i can go,

continue to fall or learn to fly.

Fear of the unknown

freezes me in my fate.

The dawn of change is not warm,

and time has been unkind.

This paralyzing fear has kept me blind,

and the indifference makes me numb.

If i choose to care,

once again i will feal that fear,

and ghosts start whispering in my ear."

~Exploring what makes a person decide to take an extreme action. Getting lost in the holes of the darkest of nights and not being able to see the light. Where is your mind at that moment? How do you get into this or out of this? You either fight or take flight; take flight into the unknown regions of your mind. Your darkest thoughts and fears becoming a frightening reality. I had so many of these moments for years of my life not knowing why. I believe they are mostly a manifestation of my anxieties.

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MY MUSE

"If I free the raven from his cage,

and bring upon us darker days,

please don’t hate me for what I’ve done,

I had no choice, the time has come."

~something that may look beautiful from the outside may bring pain and suffering to a person. My muse is my interpretation of just that. A muse is classicaly thought of as a beautiful image/goddess/person etc...that brings inspiration to an artist to create his or her own beautiful images. However, my muse offers me the darkest images and thoughts of the human mind. My muse appears beautiful on the outside, but inspires in me images of painful suffering as she empties the darkest corners of my mind. She forces me to come to terms with all of my most frightening demons. She offers me thorny branches instead of lush greenery and ripened fruit and blossoming flowers. She makes me grasp the thorns until my hands run with blood. She wraps me in thorny vines until i cannot move and must suffer in agony. She brings with her the raven and canendula flower, evoking painful memories and feelings of devastation, death, and grief. She is so tempting from her beautiful exterior yet her effect is like venom to me. This is my muse.

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Surfacing

...i have so many images of a person in the hands of death. In these images, there is a dark figure trying to save this person. A dark cloaked figure in disguise since this figure is light underneath. Somehow these two figures are connected but it is not clear how or why. They have some sort of immortal connection and the dark figure needs to save her to survive. This dark figure is not human; more of a spiritual being. This spiritual being is on the brink of death also, and these two depend on each others survival for their own.

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spill my blood

traditionaly this is a symbol of sacrifice or natural death. In this piece it is symbolic of cleansing of "bad blood". The release of poisoned thoughts and toxic memories. One taking responsibility for expelling the bad from one's own life. Spilling of thine own blood.

~

unanswered questions

I had this professor in college who made it clear that a piece of work what not art unless it was beholding some great message about life. Is it wrong to be inspired by the simplest of details of the physicality of the work. Cannot the contrast of light and dark, the delicate line of the pencil, the depth and beauty of the color be inspirtion for both the artist and the viewer? The delicate line the pencil creates of the women's features onto the paper are a reminder of the delicate nature of the skin, the fragileness of human life, giving an appreciation for our existence in our harsh world. He was my favorite professor. Hated by most (and most failed his class), he pushed our limits as artists, forcing us to think about what and why we are artists; what impact art has on the threads of our society. I believe that art should not be based on feeling and fact alone, but i've learned that the physicality of the piece can indeed be a vehicle for interpretating a meaning.

A picture in a Frame

A parent; they gave you life, raised you, kept you safe...kept you alive. Memories floating through the air, from pictures, smells, objects...through good times and bad...thicker than water..it is blood..the lifeblood that keeps s in this life..that can take us so suddenly.


Someone who was our life, is suddenly gone. A piece of you dies with them...they are memories swirling in your brain, reminding you through sights, smells, objects...


Someday, they are jsut a picture in a frame...memories fade


Is that all we get of that person when they leave us...a picture in a frame?


time is cruel to us. It doesn't care. It moves on whether we like it or not. It makes us forget things even though we struggle to hold on to every last bit.


Why are we so different than the world that surrounds us...one of unpredictability, violence, ...


we aren't meant to survive here, to be forced to become attached and care and love so that it can be ripped away from us in a split second..it is a cruel joke.


they say we are to learn and grow from these changes but from those who have experienced them we know it is no more than a broken heart and never will be more...


after time fails us we will be nothing more than a picture in a frame...

alive again

alive again





chest rising up

and falling down...

heart pumping under my skin.

blood rushing, pulsing.

warm skin glistening.

alive again.



running,

sun washing over me,

wind singing in my ears.



welcome back to life.



the simplest of things

bringing the greatest joys

re-awakening

alive again.







your lips dusting mine,

breath on my skin

inhaling your breath

swirling and whipping memories in my brain

alive again.

re-awakening

i have to admit, i have been dead for awhile. Physically and mentally. I have been numb, i haven't let myself feel things, see things, hear things. I touched but didn't feel, listened but didn't hear. Life put too much on me at one time and the only way i knew how to get through was to numb myself. Recently I finished reading a series of books, and i think that the are making me come alive. For the first time in a long time, I have begun to have these flickers of feelings again. Friendship, love, touch, sound, sight...Kind of like little flickers of a picture or a sound on a fuzzy tv screen. Not much, but just enough to know that something is still there, still possible, and there is hope.




First, came feelings of lust and love. feelings i hadn't felt in a long time. Not only for my husband, but even such things as a longing to have the company of an old friend. For so long i've felt nothing. Didn't care if i talked to anyone or saw anyone. These books brought back memories for me. Thoughts and feeling I once had but they had been buried under heaping mounds of life junk. Simple and sweet things, like love, passion, lust, creativity, inspiration...I feel like I can care about things again. Life was getting too stressful and droning...but at one point I had magic in my life, and I still do. This story helped me remember my own very special love story...




I always pictured myself sort of falling down into a hole and being able to see the light above me but i could never quite reach the top...i just couldn't get out. I almost feel as if I am getting there now and i feel so free...I think more than i ever have in my entire life. Now that I have begun to somewhat heal after many many traumatic events, some that are still very painful to think about, I can begin climbing out of the hole. I have more strength and vigor than I have ever felt. It is so wonderful to feel like things matter again. Like I really can do whatever I want if I try hard enough; now that I have my freedom back.




It's weird...it's like in my mind I can think about certain memories that are so painful and hurtful but now I can see them from the outside... instead of being so enveloped in the feelings that I didn't know how to sort it out. I can put some of those memories to rest; they will always be there but in a different way. They will no longer hold me down. With that lifted off of me, I have so many wonderful things to accomplish now.


It's one of those strange and unexpected blessings in life. Would I have ever thought that by seeing a movie, I would be inspired to read the books, and those books could change my entire life and help me heal and become a better person?! But I guess it all comes full circle...I mean, that is why I have always been drawn to art. To make that connection with people. In the same way these stories have connected with me and have helped me in my life. Back when I decided to actually pursue art I don't think I knew this was why I wanted to be an artist. For that simple human connection and understanding. The basic need of life aside from physical requirements.