Two years later with a dash of rage

You think you've had two years (this weekend) to go inside yourself and listen deeply to your wants and needs and to create a new personal mission statement for the way you want to live on this planet. 

But you didn't. 

How could any of us think like that while the world is on fire and there are so many loud voices coming at us from all sides? Did some listicle shame you and the way you coped? So many voices telling us to get clear on our goals, get fit, get organised, go deep, make your mark, leave what no longer serves, get angry, fight the power, and save the planet. All the while fighting for social and economic justice, raising a good family or loving the one you're with while staying informed on politics, world news, and what's trending. Clap for carers and front line workers, bargain shop, and mind how long you leave the lights on and did you mourn in an acceptable way across your socials, did you virtue signal or just support the right causes? 

How the fuck are we supposed to do all of this while being beautiful, creative, talented, well-read, well-travelled, and well-loved. And of course, let's not forget the people who didn't skip a beat, you just got on with it, kept calm and carried on and "fuck it, this is my one life when it's time, it's time..."

The pandemic is not over, war rages in many places that we are not paying attention to today, and of course on our poor mother earth. Politicians are chipping away at our democracy while stealing from the poor and we know that straight white males are the only ones that had a fair shake anyway, so why the fuck are they so angry? 

And yet, I need to paint a painting? I need to stay relevant, make a sale, go to an exhibition, say something beautiful, add a bit of joy to the world or express my rage in painterly form? Hmm. I am not so sure about that.

A line is better out than in

I had a lovely birthday last Saturday and so I decided to continue the fun and take the past week off. As much as an artist takes a week off. It was more a timeout from walking and running. Perhaps taking off from the outside world just a bit. I still took a few gentle walks and did a bit of yoga. I attended an art collective meeting and had in-depth and meaningful conversations with other artists in my circle. I applied for a volunteer position, started a bit of art, posted some art to a buyer, promoted my work across social media, bought a bit of art, cheered some artists on, signed a petition for Universal Basic Income, and here I am writing my blog. 

This week I also cried and was angry over the fear and danger women face in the world. I will hold vigil tomorrow for women everywhere.

 I'd like to run through the forest and throw rocks. I'd like to smash and kick the air. 

I'd like to scream from my guts until it shakes the trees.

Buy this print

A line is better out than in...

That's all I have for you this week. Thanks as always to my patrons and supporters.

Take good care out there.

I am a volcano

These are the first drawing or paintings I’ve done since June 12th. That's about a 3-week break. My skin felt like it was boiling from the inside out. You might say well then why didn’t you just make something? Good question. I think I stop to 1) rest and percolate. and 2) to remember how important this is for my life.

I am a volcano. I am headphones and joy division. I am charcoal and paper and unlimited cups of tea. I am a fever, I am electricity. It builds and builds and builds. I am a good woman until I am not. I'd like to run through the forest and throw rocks. I'd like to smash and kick the air. I'd like to scream from my guts until it shakes the trees. 

Instead, I'll draw. I will borrow your rock and roll smash it up energy safely from my sofa. I will screw up my face as I make the dark lines and I will break the charcoal instead. I will turn it up loud and I will disappear safely in your decades-old guitar sound and my heart will become the bass and I will go away in order to come back to myself again.

And each time it will be new, a revelation - a raw delight. I will close my eyes and shake my head and realise that no one gets to feel this but me. There is no way to make you understand so I don't even have to try to explain. What freedom. I'll step into your screams and take them as my own, I will wear your rage as a cloak and I will keep drawing.