Breadcrumb path to the soul

You wouldn't just let it burn

Mixed media on canvas, 71x87cm. 

Framed in white (with the painting continuing on to the frame)

2019 Megan Chapman

I sit here at my blog writing desk (this is a new thing - I now have a blog writing desk and swivel chair for my art business purposes). I have no idea what to write about but I am here on a Friday attempting to get back into this blog writing groove. Grey sky above, a cup of tea, and the cat next to me, as I look out the window. 

I am waiting for some art supplies to be delivered, nothing major just some paper and some spray fixative so I can tackle the mound of finished work that needs fixing due to my using Conte crayon pastels. The paper will hopefully be used for some new small works that I will mount - think Christmas presents. How can it already be the 20th of November!?! 

I have put on some concentration music on my headphones, I look to the sky and zone out thinking about a potential new accidental portrait I could paint. Remember those? Then my mind turns to wonder if we are all trapped 16-year-olds in ageing bodies or if that is just me. I am thinking about art related to that, but just for a split second - nothing serious. 

I have some small canvas-covered boards I could be working on - another Christmas sized item for your enjoyment and purchase. Fine art for Christmas. Thinking about all the marketing aspects -  fine artists and makers scrambling for sales, attention, new ways of being in this Instagram society. I don't think I imagined this when I graduated from art school over 21 years ago now. I was 4 years "behind" my peers after a stint of doing nothing much at all. I remember feeling so old and so young at 27 when I completed my BFA. And at 48 I still feel so old and so young, I imagine that is how it will always be. 

I take more photographs than paint these days (that's really been the case for a long time), for a split second I remember thinking about switching my major to photography from painting. That would not have made sense and I am glad I didn't and I think the two work well hand in hand. Photography helps me see, and you have to be able to see to paint. I am not talking about with functioning eyes but more with another sense. Photography allows me to see things I am too close to and feeds the information to me in another way that I can more easily digest. Listening to music, writing, and photography are my breadcrumb path to the paintings. I can't have one without the other.

Abstract paintings are the breadcrumb path to my soul and the unseen world outside and they connect me to you if they work right or if you are in the right place to see and receive them. I have cleaned my tiny workspace, I am almost ready to begin again. 

The sky is completely white and featureless, all the angles of the neighbouring houses punch into the air. The negative space loudly proclaims I am here. 

I love sitting in front of windows looking out.

From two worlds

I am now sitting on our sofa in our flat in Leith. We got back home yesterday. We left Arkansas Wednesday morning and it still seems like Wednesday to me somehow. I remember walking out into the mist out back at my parent's house, looking for their dog Milo and finding him with a salvaged deer leg. He was so proud of his treasure as the misty air enveloped me. I breathed in deeply knowing I would be saying goodbye to my parents within the hour and that I would be in the caged air for the rest of the day and night.

I drove the old highway 71 one more time and then the back roads to the airport sadly, nervously, chatting away. Once we were at the airport, it was game on. All I was required to do was to go with the flow, follow the rules and move through the lines and sky to our destination. There is something comforting about the system. Periodically a few tears escaped simply from the thought of going so far away again and from sheer exhaustion.

It was good to arrive yesterday morning in Edinburgh Airport and grab the Chai latte that has become my favourite and to get on the tram, the bus, and finally to the flat and to bed for a nap, and then later to the local pub. It was good to see familiar faces and remember the familiar ways of doing.

It really is like time travel. These two worlds are always going on, I could still be walking through the mist on the hill in Winslow right now. Part of me surely is and of course, part of me has a lot of plans this year here in the now of Edinburgh. What will this new year bring? I have a few ideas...

For right now though, jet lag still rides beside me and I am amazed I have stayed up past 10 pm as I write this. Before I left Winslow, I did film the Studio Video Visit and it seemed to touch a nerve with folks. Thanks for all the kind comments and shares and private messages. I am glad to know so many folks that care and understand. If you missed it over on my Facebook art page, you can see it again here.


Until next week (and yes, there will be painting again!) - keep fighting, love your people, and dream big. I will if you will!