Imagine A Love Story

Yesterday I pulled one of my framed drawings out of storage.  As of next week it will be a donation to the CNIB for their annual Eye Appeal Art Event.

Right now the drawing is propped up on my studio couch.  There are coyotes walking across this drawing, a wall of coloured stones, and words about building a fence then taking it down.  Really, it’s a kind of love story.

The drawing is all imagination.  There was no still life model beside me as I created.  I imagined an argument and a fence, and what happened after.  Then I drew.

Seeing this drawing has me thinking about love in its various aspects, and how love can grow from imagination.

I love colour.  It’s the first thing I notice in everything I see.  I love light and the physical, emotional feelings it raises in me.  All my life, I’ve felt colour and light run from my eyes through my body as shades of love and joy.  It makes me shiver.

I imagine no colour, no light, and I feel lost.

I imagine never having such love and joy again, and I feel empty.

I imagine someone gentle beside me who still sees colour and light. They speak to me, saying I will guide you through this, if you wish.  Take my arm and we’ll walk together.  You’ll find your way through again.

Imagine this love story.

This is why I give away my drawing, to offer love and joy to someone I will never meet.  To share light and colour from within.

It’s all because of imagining a love story.

________________

In this post:

CNIB (formerly the Canadian National Institute for the Blind) Eye Appeal Exhibition and Event 2019 http://www.eyeappeal.org/

My drawing is titled “Old Coyote Trick (sticks and stones)”, and it’s the image heading this post.  It is also on my art site at https://www.walkingowlstudio.ca/image/garudas_cheshire_cats_and_other_/old_coyote_trick_sticks_and_stones The words showed up after noticing someone had built a fence immediately next to their neighbour’s fence.  The drawing came after.

I see your fence

Don’t like it

Build my own

Make us small

Judgments  Expectations

Mine  Yours

Not how we are meant to be

Take down my fence

(burn it)

Breathe us big

Pat your fence

(like a friendly dog)

And walk around

The Feeling I Didn’t Expect

My studio is in chaos.  Boxes.  Books.  Papers.  Art supplies.  Reintegrating two studios into one is a messy business.  Right now I am organizing, and there are multiple piles covering the floor and work tables.

I am joyful amidst this chaos.  My smile is wide and I am utterly content.  My studio is becoming one again, I am becoming one again.

I moved back and forth between two homes for fifteen years.  This movement was not natural to me.  I am a nester.  I did my best anyways. 

Now I am home where I began, the place where I feel grounded and whole.  Here I breathe easiest, and my body and senses know the rhythm, smells, and sounds of the land.  I am a part of this place.

I should have expected the feeling that showed up, but I didn’t.

Relief.  Overwhelming, tear-inducing relief.

I held my breath for fifteen years and did not know it.

How could I not know something this essential?

Necessity.  I forced myself to focus on what was necessary.  In my second home I made myself find what was good, what was new and interesting, what I could love.  Apparently I am very good at finding ways to feel okay, and very expert at looking away from what I have to leave behind.  No looking back, I say to myself, and I don’t.

I made good friends.  I found things I could truly love, and things that expanded my life.  I met people who love the land there, who are clearly home in every meaning of the word.

But I know my home is here.

The back-and-forth years are done, the time away completed.  The relief I didn’t expect to feel is real and honest.  I have come home again.

_____________________

In this post:

The image is a pastel drawing I made for my sister-in-law. It’s titled “I called light and dark and wove the cloth of life (Charlene)”, from a body of artwork “Dancing The Ghosts” which honours five generations of my family. I created this body of work while living in my northern home, and on Charlene’s drawing I wrote:

Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wasted. Nothing is neurotic. Nothing is disowned. Everything is possible. Everything is held. Everything is claimed. Everything is loved. This is who we are.

If you are curious about “Dancing The Ghosts”, you can find the drawings at https://www.walkingowlstudio.ca/gallery/dancing_the_ghosts/

A Few Words And Lots Of Pictures

Two days ago I completed my second sketchbook project for the Brooklyn Art Library, and yesterday it began the journey to its new home.

It’s not your usual sketchbook. It’s a pocket mural. I made it to open like an accordian. Hold one cover in each of your hands, open your arms, and there it is, one long garden. Close it up, turn it over, open again, and the garden continues on the second side.

I am so very happy with how the drawings turned out, all colour, play, and joy. My heart loves the garden I created, and I can feel how my body longs to be in the midst of it for real, climbing and playing. I wonder if someone makes adult-sized swing sets with a glider and slide? I think I need one.

I can’t hold my garden in my hands any longer, but I can hold it in my heart and share it. Here is The Secret Garden. Join me! Come and play!

_______________________

In this post:

The Brooklyn Art Library https://www.brooklynartlibrary.com/library

The Sketchbook Project https://www.brooklynartlibrary.com/sketchbookproject