The perils of painting
As an abstract painter the moon calls to me. I revel in its luminosity and shadow.
April 11, 2017 was a particularly big full moon for me. I had been painting inside my head for days in preparation. Canvas in my studio beckoned, colors whispered.
Well, here’s the side story. Some of my earliest school memories are about being teased because of my thick glasses and orthopedic shoes. I have remarkably flat feet and often they are unhappy with me.
The day of this full moon, had been a particularly ouchie foot time. As I sometimes do (okay, way too often), I ignored my body and declared that I was going to walk through the pain. Painting into the wee hours under the full moon was not something I was going to miss.
Outside my bamboo forest, I danced naked and barefoot under the full moon.
Truth be told, no I was not naked. It just makes the story oh so much better. Yes, I did dance. I dance all the time as part of my painting process.
I felt the tides rise inside me. I stilled and felt Mother Earth and Father Sky inside me. Paint poured out of me and in moments of deep ecstasy, light and shadow danced on my canvas.
I birthed the universe onto my canvas.
I woke up early that morning in excruciating pain. Unable to walk down the stairs, I butt slid down the stairs so I could eat something before taking an anti-inflammatory.
Well, cut to the chase, I have a torn tibial tendon in my right foot. I am spending weeks in a cast/ non-weight bearing.
Oh no! I have to depend on someone else for almost everything. I don’t have skills in asking for help.
Luckily, my secret admirer came to my rescue. I am oh so supported with love, humor and damn fine cooking. I am staying with him in Brooklyn, so the cityscape will enter my paintings when I can return to my north shore of Long Island studio.
I am sketching up a storm however. I always paint standing up but now I have to sit. How will this impact my work? And I have to be neat!
Yay, I am setting up a mini studio in the kitchen. I will be exploring watercolors. I had to promise not to throw paint. Yes, I am sulking.
This May full moon, my dear art pal, Sam Woolcott, warned I best stick to howlin’ this time round.
Sam’s paintings stir me and her courage in her work moves me. She kicks and soothes my butt as my accountability partner. We hold flames; well ice for me, to each other’s feet in our journeys as artist entrepreneurs.
As I rebuild, I may be able to dance in my sneakers and my trusty orthotics under the full moon; just no more barefoot naked dancing.
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