last fall, before life became complicated by a series of fortunate and unfortunate events, my husband listened while i talked about my ideas and wishes for this art adventure that i am on. we talked about the purity and spontaneity of a child’s art; how it was the expression of a unique individual who had not yet been shaped by a long life of sensory input and the formulation of rules.
one of my desires is to see if i can reclaim that freedom. and so i begin by scribbling. here is the sky. here are some trees. here is the grass. here are the shadows.
Applying water to the scribbles creates a flow of color, and the idea of a landscape emerges.
a single layer of pastels moves the idea forward, and subsequent layers lead to the image posted at the top of this photo blog. here, in the middle of frozen winter, with the snow falling and the wood stove chugging away, spring is alive.
Walking on Paint 