All the time at home with sickness and discomfort has given me time to conquer this canvas. I’ve been looking at it trying to decide what else it needs. I will add some more detail to the pathway and touch up the Pilsner Urquell sign with more detail. But I want to use this piece to define what’s going through my mind and heart these days.
There is a reason why our senses are stimulated by an image of an open road winding out in front of us. We want to be there, we want to transport away from our current location. Our little family has been thrown into a transitional place these past 6 months or so. We don’t like it, but we have had to make a choice. Being mature and making choices are hard, especially when you can’t really explain the outcome of your choice very well to your kids. Anyway, I believe this transition has tested us and has brought circumstances into our lives that are difficult. I have had a hard time coping with little things sometimes. But never do I doubt that God is leading us and wanting us to keep moving. Motion, that is what I crave. This painting, is a visual challenge for my heart. I want to dialogue with it. I must find the best words.
Words is what I will explore. Phrases that have universal power, much like the image of a open street. Symbols and expression that will join me with my viewer and we can process the journey together. I have always thought that I do city scenes because people like them and I like being liked. But I do think there is a more important reason. When I started doing these images it was 2005 and I didn’t just represent. I added text and meaning to the image. Images mean something, it’s a powerful communication. I might not be the best friend, or very well read. I stumble over words while I teach and I can’t spell anymore. But I find the communication of images is a language that I speak.
I spent time looking through the latest New American Paintings periodical at B&N last week. I think it was a west coast one. I was underwhelmed. It didn’t communicate. Yet when I looked through a magazine about drawing technique filled with amazing self portraits in pencil I was pulled in. It communicated so well. I was surprised at myself. And I doubted whether it was my age or my lack of coolness. Forget all that, I have a story and an important vision to share.
Even in a grey, transitional time in my life, the colors I find are mostly close to my heart. The sunshine on Josiah’s hair and the pink in Tessa’s cheek. The rich brown of my coffee and the blue white glow of the morning light as we lie in bed. The orange creaminess of coconut milk as it hits curry powder. I have enjoyed taking tubes of paint out and creating a new destination. Today, with Josiah home from school, I will not be getting groceries or going to Mom’s group. I’ll try and squeeze in some time to jot down phrases that this painting needs to hold. I will communicate and continue to move.