I started a canvas last week. August is my least prolific month, or I guess I just don't worry about output of any kind. I'm like the flowers out front, just struggling to keep my roots moist and not to worried about blossoming beautiful petals anymore. If you follow and live within nature, it always slows down, growth takes a break, the soil gets crusty-some moisture is needed for new growth spurts later on.
I felt a bit wobbly painting. Some of my paint tubes were even dried up.
Wow, just like me, I thought, feeling the heat of my skin from the summer temperatures.
But, I worked through it. The thing is, I have some other projects going on, one I haven't talked about and will if it comes to fruition. And the barn project is on my mind, as are the many Misfit issues. So when I felt a bit wobbly painting, I just thought,
"This is for me, only me."
I liked it, and sensed I was channeling rain. Who knows. I tried to see other shapes in the piece that might become something, if I felt they were really there. But I didn't see anything. Months earlier, I had made a comment online that I felt a need to go inward in my painting, work on some abstracts. This is perhaps due to the fact that writing exposes me, and literal pieces do too, more than an abstract. So the canvas will stay as it is for now. I think it's showing me something and it is also asking to remain as it is for this time period. I'll oblige.
I was thinking about life after death, assuming there is another realm, which I choose to believe. I tried to imagine what it is like to not have things, or recognizable objects, a realm where no words are used because they aren't needed. Nature won't exist as we know it on this beautiful planet but it might expand into colors. As a living human, wondering what it might be like, it can seem uncomfortable. But it also seems very free, to be unencumbered by all feeling or sensation as we know and experience it here and just become pure spirit and love. I think that is what abstract painting might be for me.
