Making art. Living life.
In September of 2010 I realized that I had lost a big part of knowing who I was. I had lived my life, just shouldering the responsibilities that life was handing me: Going to college, starting a career, buying a home, getting married, having children, children going to college and moving away, etc. Then, I arrived at a crossroads; Was it all to start going backwards now? It was time for me to remember what I loved to do, and have some time for deep introspection.
I started making art again. I set myself small goals at first. I took a Saturday class. It was fun. We just played with paper and paints and made small books. Then later I collaged some images from magazines in them. I found joy in this. It reminded me that every year, in the summer, I used to make an annual collage from magazine images. It was just a marker for what interested me that year, or what was out there in my world to look at. I saved them. They were there for me to look back on, and see how much I’ve grown, or changed or to see how transient life is.
I needed an inner journey as well. I remembered a collage book my mom had made with the Sonoma Collage Studio, that I felt expressed my mother to me in a way that went beyond words. It was beautiful, and contained bits of my mom’s photography, and her personal touch with her painting. I felt there was a place for me at the studio, where working with this facilitated process, it would also draw out of me what I needed for my inner work.
There, I said it, (art) “draws out of me what I need”.
I already knew there was this mysterious thing that my art shows me. The essence beyond words. I have loved drawing, painting, building, art making since I was very young. And in it, I have always seen symbols that mean something to me. I remember as very young child finger painting in the kitchen. My mom slapped a wet piece of paper down on the Formica counter top, and gave me a dollup of green and red finger paint, which I quickly spread around. As I played, I remember seeing that I had actually created something, that looked very real to me. It was a forest. I was so excited!
Next to my bed in the morning, when my mom didn’t want me out of bed yet, she had taught me to name the shapes I saw on the stucco wall. Much like seeing objects in the clouds. I would study them, and make up pictures to go with them. I learned how to look, and use my imagination.
Throughout my life I have dabbled with all kinds of media, and have become very conscious of its ability to express for me a need, to put the world within me, outside of me. To actualize something meaningful. At times, art had made a statement about my life at the very moment of the piece’s creation. Sometimes it even predicted the near future. But of course, it is only in hindsite, that I am able to see the truth that it beheld.
My art is a collaboration. I think I have an intention, but often it takes a turn of its own, so I just try to work with it. I have learned that this is part of the joy of making art. Sometimes my hands just make a mark, and I don’t know what it is, or why, but intuitively I know to let it be, just as it is. I tell myself, I don’t know what this means right now, but someday I may.
This website is just a place for me to come, and log what has occurred in my journey in my love for imaginations, and share a bit of that story, to those who are interested.