It drives me crazy that I don't have more of my fine art work online yet. I've got so much to shoot and scan, and then there are all the pictures in my head, swirling and whirling, keeping me up at night; noisy little buggers.
There is never enough time. Choices have to be made. I say the artist's prayer, "Let me live one more hour then it takes for me to birth it all."
It is a funny thing being an artist. I'm a visual artist (mostly) so a lot of what comes in, and goes out, for me, is visual. But, even non-visual items take on a life of their own. Sounds create textures; touch produces a series of shapes; a smell generates color. All the senses intertwine for me this way. They seem to be talking to each other, sometimes behind my back, telling each other secret stories and then springing the surprise on me. I don't mind... keeps me on me toes.
Sometimes I feel engulfed in my surroundings. I think this is part of the oneness that yoga and meditation bring to my life, as well as my "artist's mind". The singularity of One Taste. The permeated feeling that comes from knowing that nothing really separates me from anything. Only the illusion provided by molecules vibrating a slightly different rates makes it seem so.
I had this feeling the other day laying down on a park bench after my morning run. Watching the yellowing autumn leaves shake, and then cascade down over the path, over me, through me and down past the ground beneath, going on and on for infinity. I wondered how I could portray that in paint. Can you? Makes me jealous of the masters of the moving picture. I think they might have a better chance.
I paint a lot of women. They say that artists are always painting themselves, and I definitely see the truth of that in my own work. Sexy, vibrant, rash, hollow, lost and found, glorious and broken, I see them all in the female archetypes of history, and in the mirror.
They are all goddesses, and as such they don't have to play by the rules. They are hardly well-behaved, but then that hardly ever gets a goddess anywhere does it?
It is encouraging to see the places they have arrived at; it's good to plot their course on a map, keep it for reference to see where they have been, the trajectory they are choosing next. They are elusive and uncontained. As they should be.
The fourth and final phase of anima development is Sofia, named for the Greek word for wisdom. Complete integration has now occurred, which allows females to be seen and related to as particular individuals who possess both positive and negative qualities. The most important aspect of this final level is that, as the personification "Wisdom" suggests, the anima is now developed enough that no single object can fully and permanently contain the images to which it is related.
