Where I want to live...

small works and long works in progress

Early Monday morning I sat down to write. I turned on the computer and the flash of David Bowie's death caught my eye, the horrible announcement rolling through the Facebook feed. I shuddered, overwhelmed by feelings of disbelief. How does someone like David Bowie just die, especially after his birthday and record release? I woke up Stewart to tell him. 

small work in progress

I returned to the computer and wrote my own short tribute with tears running down my face and posted Ashes to Ashes on Facebook. I felt so sad and in shock, yet I had to rush out the door to catch my bus for my Monday appointment. I somehow got to where I was going early and wandered the grounds. The Pentland Hills in the distance were covered in snow. The sun was coming up behind Blackford Hill. It would be sunny here, the day we learned David Bowie left the planet and joined the ether. 

small work in progress

I listened to Bowie's music for what seemed like all my life. He gave this girl growing up in Arkansas hope for a future full of art, creativity, individuality and a place to belong. I wanted to live in his videos, he created just my kind of world. It seemed unbelievable that he was not still on the planet showing us how to make it more beautiful. A true artist in every sense of the word, even on his way out, his last album and video so personal and moving, a message for us all. This week I heard his music through art studio walls, neighboring flats and from passing cars; everyone is listening.

small work in progress

David Bowie's death is also sadly reminding me of all the things I've wanted to do and say through my art and how I have yet to do them and say them. It reminds me how I have let passivity and fear rule too often. With this on my mind, I returned to the studio this week with renewed vigor. I worked on small paintings, large paintings and a skinny, long canvas too. I picked up the pace, I dove into the process, I made mistakes and I tried. I painted with Stewart for the first time since 2012. My studio is a hive of activity.

alive with energy, a large piece Stewart and I started this week

This week I have been reminded of the otherworldly nature of creativity. When one gets to that place where permission, vision, and openness meet at a wonderful edge. There is no death there, just infinite possibilities. That's where I want to live...

Thank you. x