Past Present Future

St. Bartholomä
watercolor

Sometimes seeing who you were in the past helps you figure out who you want to be in the future.

Melk, Austria
watercolor

I came across these two little watercolor sketches this week. I painted them back when I was still afraid of the juicy power that watercolors can have. If you let watercolors have plenty of water, room to explore and the time to find their own way, that is.

They were on the first page of one of several little journals I've started and stopped over the years. A bad habit. I start with be best of intentions, and then over-think what the journal should be used for. I become overly-critical of myself, and then that's the end of that.

Finding that journal, and those two little paintings of places I had visited long, long ago, led me to look into my digital photo files. Just to see what else I'd forgotten about myself.

angel detail

I found special angels I painted for special people a few years ago. But instead of looking at the entire painting, I felt compelled to focus on details.

angel detail

Details I liked the most.

angel detail

Details as delicate angel wings.

Looking at who I was, and what I've accomplished in the past, has helped me focus on the details of what I want to do in the future.

angel detail

I want to keep making art, but take it more seriously. I want to create with my heart, and from my heart.

acrylic detail

I want to embrace color. Vibrant and happy color.

acrylic detail

And I want to allow myself to soar to new heights, with reckless abandon. To finally cast aside, for good, the barriers I always seem to set up for myself, and celebrate a new-found feeling of complete freedom.

This past week I also gathered together some little books to use as art journals, since I finally have a clear vision of what keeping a journal now could mean to me. There's a wonderful book, An Illustrated Life, by Danny Gregory, that I've been reading, too, which has shown me just how amazing keeping an art journal can be.

I finally get it. And, more importantly, I finally get me.

"Deep inside
I think drawing and writing
(will) help me remain whole
in a world
that feels so broken apart."
~Rick Beerhorst

(of Studio Beerhorst)
as quoted in An Illustrated Life

Weaving and letting the light in

Woven painted muslin with some random stitches

(work in progress)

I'm not quite sure where this is going, but I know I will be stitching on it some more. Right now I'm loving the rough edges.

And while I've been doing this bit of intuitive weaving and stitching, I've been allowing my mind to drift. A wonderful feeling! It's led me to think that this might be the perfect time for me to weave a new way of looking at life, as well. A new way of looking at the world and my art, and who knows what else?

This weaving and stitching is letting the light in, in more ways than one. . .

I'm also still enjoying meandering through blogland, visiting blogs, maybe even commenting, if I can find words. I'm not forcing the words to come out so much right now. And yes, our old Beau-doggy is still with us. He still has more good days than bad, although he is eating less and less, and sleeping more.

This weekend, I plan to visit this exhibit on contemporary Wisconsin textiles at the Museum of Wisconsin Art. If it's anything like their other exhibits, it will be fabulous.

Wishing you all a happy week!