thoughts about life, art and color

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Out of the Forest

I do a lot of commission work and I recently finished a very large painting that took months to complete. Some folks asked how I could possibly let it go after working so hard and long on this piece. Actually I think they were sick of seeing it in my studio. Not a problem for me. Many artists I know have angst when a work is completed and it’s time to turn it over to the client/purchaser. I’ve heard it referred to as “their baby”. I on the other hand turn it over with a smile without any heart strings pulling at me. I am a process artist and the high for me is developing the work and not the finished piece itself. Maybe in some very miniscule tiny way it could be compared to being a surrogate mother (gestational carrier).  I’m happy to go through the development, discomforts, problem solving, aha moments to make it happen. When I turn it over I love watching the client’s reaction in those first few seconds of happiness knowing it’s finally theirs after anxiously waiting. That’s what works for me.


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The Hello Leaf

     Have you ever wondered about those little life occurrences that make you sing to yourself: doo-too-doo-too-doo-too and  you’re getting chills because you think someone who has passed just communicated with you? Sent you a sign that they’re thinking of you? Had a dream that you were suddenly awakened from feeling it was so real? Using nature to speak directly to you?

It’s fall in Pennsylvania and we’re surrounded by gusts of circling reds, oranges, gold, greens; it’s magnificent, but you never know whether these leaves are coming or going. They crunch under our feet and then suddenly jump from the ground and uncontrollably dance or idly float all around us and we are merely spectators like an audience in an interactive theatrical performance.

My husband visited our son’s grave the other afternoon as it would have been our son’s 33rd birthday. We’ll talk more about that another time. Anyway, he was parked next to the grave with his passenger window ever so slightly open. Of course, nature was doing its ongoing fall dance calling in winter but…lo and behold, he got back into his car and sitting on the passenger seat was one lone leaf. It was just sitting there waiting to be buckled in as Joe often did; it had three dots placed perfectly as a face, two eyes, a mouth, and a crease right between these dots suggesting a nose. I like to think that through nature Joe came to see Ed just to say: “hi dad, I miss you too”.