Lately

Lately, I’ve been painting, reading - with 3 books on the go , listening to Louise’s “Leadership” cds; in short: moving through my days with no plan (randomly) and with enthusiasm. Somehow, blogging has fallen by the wayside although occasionally I find myself, while walking outside (in the sometimes spring-like air) and especially when painting, in a sort of internal blogging mode. In a abstract way: I’m not forming sentences, but I’m thinking thoughts; it’s beyond just ‘having’ thoughts and the thought(s) is/are not yet really formed, gelled. It’s fun – seeing what pops up, from the past - sometimes a new angle, sometimes a repeat, sometimes a whim or fantasy for the future. And just letting these thoughts fly without pushing, guiding or limiting them. Some fizzle out as fast as they came, others begin to feel more like an exploration, or a sparkle with a bit of staying power.

The rest of the time when I’m painting, I’m pretty much ‘just’ painting - pushing and pulling colours across the paper, mixing colours and seeing what happens; and constantly surprising myself with what emerges. Time flies. I’m starting not to feel naughty or self-indulgent or silly. (That old familiar voice is less frequently audible, but I still know what she used to say: I’m not An Artist hence and what am I doing pretending I can paint? Do something useful!). And I’m actually allowing myself to be quite pleased with some of the results, and recognizing my own sense of pleasure and surprise with the results, and I’m aware that I’m enjoying the feeling in my body as I’m standing in front of the easel, brush in hand. Maybe that’s why I’m doing it – to get a bit more in tune with me and my feelings? If so, it’s working! Or is it a way for me to learn to just me in the moment, focusing on putting one mark on the canvas at a time? That’s working too.
Despite my musing about it here, I like that I don’t even have to know ‘why’ I doing it.

For the upcoming term at the School of Art, I’ve signed up for another session of ‘Acrylics for Beginners’ classes – that was a really easy decision. More daring was enrolling in “Dare to Sculpt”. It’s been an idea forming for a while, and then, in March at an exhibit of Henry Moore works in London I actually said out loud: I’d like to learn how to sculpt, to mold things with my hands, to see what happens. So I enrolled. In spite of my aghast, often-instantly-there don’t-do-it voice: screeching: Hubris! TWO art classes, who do I think I am? And sculpting? for gods sake, I’m NOT Henry Moore. Have pity on the instructor! But something else inside was prompting me loudly and clearly: YES, BE crazy. So I’m going to give it a whirl! Watch me twirl! And yes, probably I should have pity on the instructor who’ll have to deal with someone (ME) who has no idea how to begin to think/create in 3D. I suppose so . . . EXCEPT . . . because this is a holographic universe, and I’m being drawn to this, full of curiosity and the tingle of Yippeee - Adventure Ahead! ‘having pity’ is not the way I’m thinking any more. Now it’s . . . Choose me, eh!
So Ms Sculpting Instructor will have me aboard for nine Mondays; and she’s really welcome on my holodeck too.
And my old voice is groaning at the thought. Too bad for her, now; she’s been zipped.