Today is my birthday. Today I turned 42. In the past few years, the days leading up to my birthday bring a tiny bit of sadness. I don’t like that I am getting older, especially when I still feel so young. I see a few wrinkles now and dread someday not recognizing myself in the mirror.
This morning my nine year old son woke me up with hugs and birthday wishes. I left the bed he was snuggled into to use the bathroom. When I came back he said to me “you’re beautiful”. It made me laugh. So he says, “you are, you still have that makeup on from last night, your hair is all over the place and big and there’s that little curl hanging down, you look beautiful”. Right there, the best birthday present EVER. Little did he know how much his words meant, today of all days.
We all have a story, what brings us to choose our path। Was it a conscious decision or something more subtle? I went through some rough times and with the heartaches I found myself itching to break free and define myself. I’ve had a retail business, it felt like me, like my life path in the years I was there. When it didn’t feel like me anymore, when it drained me instead of sustaining me I moved on. Now I’m here, I’m doing what years ago would have been the impossible. I’m doing what I dreamed of when I got my first compliment in an art class in high school. What drove me while I sat through art history and still life study in college and dreamed; could I one day call myself an artist? It happened slowly, painting and hiding the results. Painting and showing my kids, then my spouse until one day I had the confidence to hang a few where friends and family would see. OH MY, what a step! I used a site called deviant art to post work and get some feedback. It was so hard at first to put myself out there but it helped shape my talent and my self confidence. I was shy to approach actually listing my art for sale. I will never forget the experience of seeing my first item sell, to a total stranger, in a different country. What bliss!! Now I am out there, I’ve defined myself, I’m an artist and I’m proud of it. My Art For Sale
I’ve been asked what inspires me to paint and while I struggle to come up with the obvious answers like my surroundings, the beauty of nature, my love of life what truly drives me to paint are my emotions. Sometimes the more emotional or stressed out I am the better the painting turns out. It seems I’m painting sadness. I have had more than a few people tell me that my artwork is packed with emotion. I guess I wear my heart on my sleeve; at least when it comes to painting. In life I keep my emotions to myself on the most part. I don’t share my inner pain with friends or family or even my spouse. Maybe from an artistic point of view that is a good thing. For my aching soul it’s a terribly lonely feeling. When I paint from an emotional frame of mind the end product is so drenched in sadness I don’t think I could honestly call much of my art therapeutic. Mostly it’s a visual diary to the ups and downs of my life. A life filled with love and betrayal, struggles that reach beyond just the financial burden I often face. When someone buys a piece of my art they are truly buying a piece of my soul, my very own visual diary. You can find more of my art for sale at http://www.etsy.com/shop/ourhouseabstractart
Every time I sit in front of a canvas an idea forms in my head. Sometimes it’s in the form of colours or shapes, usually abstract. I turn to my tubes of paint and choose the colours as they appear to me in my mind. When the mood strikes and the painting turns into a figurative piece I find myself these past few months doing the same lonely figure. Sometimes standing on a cliff like structure, always with a dripping moon and no features on her face.
For me they represent the feeling of sometimes losing that unique part of yourself were everything seemed possible and our dreams were within reach. As the years go by that person, that dreamer seems more and more like a stranger. When I find myself painting featureless faces it’s as if I am still seeking to find my voice. I think I might be searching for the dreamer I used to be.