In Vein

Tension. We carry it in our bodies. It is when someone grabs my hand that I realize I am holding tension there. I was surprised to see my hand looking so strained in this image.

I visited my acupuncturist in an attempt to calm my butterflies and take care. The bruise is from a needle that hit a small vessel beneath my skin. It doesn't hurt and I do feel better.

We all carry things we keep hidden. We suppress and restrain while aware they are lurking. They don't fade.  Eventually, our needs surface. We have to take our lives into our own impassioned hands.

iTouch myself

We were away last week over the Spring break, but not really. I found myself obsessed with borrowing my son's iTouch. I genuinely looked forward to this long overdue family vacation. Yet, as we walked the well-traveled streets of Washington, DC I couldn't help but keep my eyes open for free Wi-Fi. I was crazed. In hindsight, nothing big happened that couldn't wait for my attention but I had to keep checking just in case of an email emergency. You never know, I could be needed!

Now, back at home I am grateful that my son has removed my email accounts from his "iThing." I have no desire to be continually connected although the ease and lure is overwhelmingly remote. That said, feel free to reach out and touch me. Oops! Text me.

Adventures in a Parking Lot

Sometimes the world feels very small. Appointments, errands and pickups empty my days. I live decisively between the moments.

Paradise Found

A few years ago I lost my bearings, creatively. I was new to suburban living and uninspired. For a while, I longed to be a landscape photographer. I thought that if I could just be excited about my surroundings I would always have convenient subject matter. I yearned for something to photograph that was outside my realm.

I felt reduced by the enormity of these marshlands. Willingly lost on its paths, I drowned among the reeds. I deeply inhaled the cold dampness and shivered. Now I realize that you need to make peace with the natural world in order to feel it.

Neat Messy Happy Sad

I was talking to a friend earlier this week about our own type A tendencies. We were in our children’s first grade classroom observing the kids doing an art project, a still life drawing based on a painting by Cezanne. It’s interesting to see how some kids create very specific renderings with meticulous planning and others are a naturally looser in the marks they make.

It took me years to get away from the heavy outlines of my youth. In high school I painted a cityscape of Venice. I titled it “Venice-rock” because it looked so much like the Flintstones’ Bedrock. I found comfort in having my colors neatly in place on the canvas. Really, at the time I couldn’t do it any other way.

In spite of my need for a certain order, I know that perfection is a flawed concept. Theoretically, if I wanted to line up a group of ducks in a row to photograph, by the time I would click the shutter - - they would be long gone. Turns out that there is no such thing as having your ducks in nice, neat row.

I wonder why we are so quick to categorize ourselves as this or that? I am thankful that through art-making I have found ways to let go of all those heavy outlines and embrace joyful spontaneity. Nothing good happens creatively if I am in my comfort zone.

I may talk a good game about blurring the lines, breaking with routine and trying something new. At the same time I know it would be impossible to step out of the box if I didn’t have a really sturdy one, with clearly defined walls to keep me feeling safe and loved.