Over the last year, I have felt almost suffocated by some of the art that I made.
Well, maybe not that dramatic but I felt like I couldn't get to MY art.
I had spent the year or two before that creating art for classes and I love those classes, love the art from those classes but I kept feeling this tugging in my heart.
Trying to pull me in a different direction.
If you were to look at the photos that I have taken over the past year or so, you would find a lot of abstract shots.
Texture, color blocks, peeling weathered pieces of wood.
Ancient broken-down boats, driftwood...
There are pages in my handmade books that reflect this "look".
Most of the pages that I paint for backgrounds (for books) portray this.
The last five or six pieces of art that I created have been from a place of deep longing.
A longing to find the sweet spot that I know is there.
That I feel I am getting close to.
I worked on a small piece of art this weekend, a tiny piece measuring 4 inches x 4 inches that felt like I was just basking in that sweetness.
I love it.
Just love it.
|I like the color combination in this.|
|Love the texture|
|I also like the depth of the canvas - almost 1 1/2 inches.|
Like a protective armor might have.
One that was well used and worn from years of protecting the wearer.
So I aged it a bit more.
plaster, gauze, acrylic paint, joint compound, soft gel,
crackle paste, cold wax