I was depleted in mind, body, and soul. The primal need to paint was strong but I had no energy, no chi. I could not bring myself to paint.  

 When I first moved back to my studio after my fire adventures, I stood in my empty, newly painted studio and was engulfed with sadness. I was so bone weary… too tired to rise to the energy needed for creation.  

Where was my painting mojo? I had been waiting, waiting for this moment so why could I not paint? 

And then inspiration hit me…ask for help (a skill I struggle with). “Turn to your precious art pals,” I said to myself. Wise folks in my art business team had suggested a ceremony to welcome back the paint spirit. YES, that is what I needed now and badly.  

So I reached out to two colleagues. Dianne Parker, AKA business coach and the queen of bleeding paper creations, was the pivot point. She works with bleeding tissue paper that “bleeds” color when it is moistened…a complex and gorgeous travel in color.  

Peace Flag creation (from recycled products) that Dianne brought to mark the space. © Dianne Parker. Image: Artist

The other artist I turned to was Laura Powers-Swiggett, a co-curious painter. We had bonded during Stan Brodsky’s class at the Art League of Long Island.

The day of the studio christening (in my case, the Jewish equivalent) I awoke with glorious anticipation. I started the day with meditation and setting intent to infuse my studio, dear art pals, and myself with creative energy.   

I smudged my studio with essential oils of sage…no burning objects in my studio thank you very much.  

Both Dianne and Laura arrived tired from busy weeks and I felt comforted that I was not the only one lagging. Well, you too know how that feels.  

Dianne started with a demonstration of her technique and Laura and I watched with awe. Then it was our turn to create with this new medium.

Evidently green blue are my colors, I match my creation. Image: © Laura Powers-Swiggett

As it turns out bleeding paper work requires an intense Zen-like slowness and gentleness. I grooved in this zone for many hours. Then I began to tire and instead of soft handling of wet tissue paper (a mandate for this work), I began to work quickly as is my way. I ended up crumpling up my failed attempts to apply wet tissue paper on top of another color of wet tissue.

The crumpled circle: I find the center so compelling. ©2018 Alicia R Peterson. Image: Artist

When I could not stand it anymore, I announced I was going outside to throw paint. Oh, that was glorious! 

Laura snagging a photo of the remains on the underneath cardboard of the paint throw…which, to be honest, was more exciting than the canvas. © 2018 Alicia R Peterson. Image: Artist

But before I lost my quiet chi, I did create 2 works that I cherish.

When I view them I go back to the peace of the manipulation of the tissue paper and the power of the co-creation. They are now above my desk to remind myself of peace, sharing of light and the stimulating mystery of new techniques.

Oh, these works bring me peace. Thank you, my oh-so-talented framers: Setauket Farm Shop
© 2018 Alicia R Peterson. Image: Artist

After lunch, I was too tired to do more…but not my colleagues. So, I sat in my studio on my trusty stool and drank tea and watched the two eager beavers go at the paper. It was lovely to sit and watch creation and take it all in.   

The next day, infused with energy from my dear art pals and the energy of co-creation, I painted with ferocity. My paint mojo had returned.  

Yes, this painting is strong in spirit. And yes, the title is an anomaly…just like the painting. It touches me in a very personal way… I think it’s me… standing tall in the face of a sea monster. So yes, I am a “Fertile Crone.” No, I don’t look like this on the outside. ©2017 Alicia R Peterson, acrylic on linen, 24 x 18”. Image: Peter Scheer