Images have been in my mind since the day I put Zappa down, blues, whites, grays, centrally located on the paper. I couldn’t wait to get into the studio. Yesterday I took Billy and the babies for a walk early so I could go straight to the studio when Ramona arrived. I took my water and fish, ate an early lunch so I could keep going all day without coming upstairs. I took down my Lenox 100, an economical paper for painting and printmaking. I tore it into several smaller pieces. I wet the paper. Start with ink and watercolor. I feel completely present, it’s quiet, mind relaxed. I channel my mom. I touch the paintbrush on the paper, the color spreads like a spill on the floor. “Mom, this is for you.” I begin adding collage, more paint, I’m thinking of delicateness. Softness like the babies cuddles. Softness which is my body. Transparency of life when you encounter death. A path to explore, more stains to be made. Memories to uncover. Coffee to drink. Cheerios to pick up off the floor. Thursday morning, back in the kitchen. Babies screeching. From making to cleaning. Drinking whole pot of coffee today. No babysitter today. No studio today. It’s play day. A day to inspire Jack and Fiona, to show them something new and wonderful, a petting zoo a duck pond. My mom said I didn’t have the discipline to work in the studio for hours when I told her I wanted to be an artist. She said I could never spend that much time alone. But I crave that time, those hours alone in my studio working. My mom was impressed when she saw me becoming that artist, when she saw my dedication. I wish she could see my paintings now. I wish I could see her paintings now. She was a wonderful artist.
Tag: painting
-
I start to get that feeling deep down in my gut, like I could cry. I hate everything I’ve made so far. I only had two hours to work and I’ve gone through an hour. I’m panicking, I’ve been working on the press. I decide to mix some paint, I mix some white with thick medium, some yellow. I start adding paint. I start some new pieces, with paint and collage. The creativity finally starts flowing. I stop self-critiquing, I start arriving in the moment, enjoying myself, liking what I’m making. I cover up a lot, next time I won’t cover up so much. I want to keep working but times up. I think about the week ahead and realize it will be difficult to get back into my studio. I woke up this morning at 4:30 to Jack wailing, I gave him Tylenol and a bottle of milk. I thought I should go work, but I was too tired. Before I had the babies I was in my studio every day. I worked for hours at a time. My biggest concern was not being able to work. But as the months went by and I saw how fast the babies were growing I took comfort. I knew one day soon they will be doing their own thing and I will be doing mine. This makes me sad too, if I was younger I would have more babies because it is a wonderful experience. But then I would never get into my studio. It always feels like time is running out. I need to get back to meditation.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 