Letters to the New Year

I want to do more,  right now. I want to tear up a piece of that handmade thick  orange paper staring at me from the floor, glue it to a piece of white paper and make one or two marks. I’ve had an interesting day in the studio so far. I’ve been working on collage, fabric, drawing, staining and watercolors. I really like the marks I’ve made. In my mind I call them “Letters to the New Year” Yes I feel like painting more. I wanna write too, maybe just to stay connected, to reach out. But there’s nothing at the tip of my head that I’m dying to tell you.  About the changing year, I’m excited. Yes, I’m a whole year older, more wear and tear on my body, my mind houses a few more cobwebs, my skin, deeper  layers of marks and creases, my children rapidly growing before my eyes, making me remember I can’t grasp onto time. My stacks and stacks of paintings creating a tall dense tower of history, marking my days, hours and minutes. My over 240 blog posts since February of last year. So much information about me and my life has been recorded. I remember the years going by before I started writing again, wanting to, but afraid, what might come out? Will I upset anyone? I was scared. But today I can’t imagine my life without writing almost everyday. The same way I feel about painting. Earlier, I let my husband know, “I need three hours of undisturbed time in the studio”  today. I said it nice, I planned it out, It was well received and understood. I can look back at 2015 as the year I customized my practice, carved out time where I could be away from the babies, made time for myself. I figured out how to be a mom and an artist. I guess I did have something I wanted to say! I’ll finish these thoughts tomorrow. Now I only have an hour and fifteen minutes left to myself. I think I’ll paint a little more.

  

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