I’ve been doing a lot of writing this month. I joined a challenge to write a book – or 50,000 words, in 30 days. It has been in the back of my mind to write about some lifetime trauma and struggle – often started and stopped due to the voice in my head that insists no one will be interested. In October I came across this quote from Sandra Cisneros – whose first book in 28 years was being published – she said, “I’d throw my poems under the bed, like Emily Dickinson,” she said, ” One of the things I learned from Emily – Miss Emily, I should say with respect-is that you don’t have to publish in your lifetime, but you have to write.”

That completely freed me. I never have to share, but I do need to write. Words and memories have been pouring out of me. Each old wound up for re-examination, for feeling and letting go of, and hopefully, to earn a new narrative once I’m through processing.

This painting was made during the first 15 or so days of the writing process. It doesn’t look like my work to me, and I’ve been curious to see what shape it would take. A friend and I examined it one morning – and we both began to see a figure on the right hand side of the piece. I saw an owl, a caldron at the feet of the figure, some hands, and a discarded mask in a corner, and my friend said, ‘oh – that looks like your liver and a bunch of your insides…and that’s your third eye falling off the side of your face looking at the guts you’ve taken out…” We both got goosebumps and saw the expression of the writing process making its way onto the canvas.

The intuitive art making experience is so cool. I did start off with an idea for this work, but it quickly disappeared as I added colors and shapes randomly – and then the painting revealed itself

16”x20”x3/4”

Acrylic and other things on wood panel

$175 local pick up

$200 shipped in US