In my search for inspiration I still have to paint. I still have to work or I’ll get totally blocked, I’ll begin to unlearn. I also have a weekly get together of ladies that make stuff with their hands. Knitters, seamstresses, and the like. Sometimes there is plenty of work going on and even some instruction and tips, other times we put down the needles and brushes and just talk or rescue a child from certain panic. I must have something to do each week, and I’ve felt even less inspired to try to sew something. So I just plop myself down and start to paint. This effort came out looking pretty attractive. A nice abstract study of sorts. I liked working on wood, it’s light and firm and the texture just begs to peek through. I have no idea what this pieces “means” but my artistic exercise is someone else’s visual journey.
The writer does want to be published; the painter urgently hopes that someone will see the finished canvas (van Gogh was denied the satisfaction of having his work bought and appreciated during his life time; no wonder the pain was more than he could bear); the composer needs his music to be heard. Art is communication, and if there is no communication it is as though the work had been still-born. — Walking on Water, Madeleine L’Engle