Painting

My paintings today are all about story telling. They have always been about story telling.  The thing that I’ve got better at is allowing those stories to shine through.  I used to be reticient at voicing the stories that arise for me in the act of making a painting, these days its those stories that I realise I’m making. The visual representation of it is just a by product.  Just like  a book full of words is a by product of a written story.  Yes, I love my paintings, and I love my books, but its not for the tangible materials that make them up, its for the spirit of them.  Its where they take me.  What they make me think. What they teach me that I love.  I’m not sure at what point in my life I let go of having to love the painting itself and believe in the story it tells, but somewhere I did and in a strange way its made my paintings so much better.  More real.  They have integrity to lend a term from Jane’s landmark.  Whole and complete. Nothing missing.  When I use that yardstick and an artwork comes up well against it, I know I’m made good.  I feel it in my bones.  A sense of lightness is about me.  I can usually tell, if I stay alert enough, as I’m painting how its going to turn out.  When all resistance falls away.  When a sense of effortlessness and ease about my painting is present, the painting will flow.  When I’m at one with my desires, let go of past and future, am there in the moment of creation, that is when the magic turely happens.  Some would call it flow.  Some would call it the art of presence.  I call it fabulous.  I used to think those moments where a gift that had to be earned.  That if I was somehow good enough or patient enough they would come and I would be grateful for their arrival.  These days however, I understand they can be sort out.  I can create a space where those times will more likely unfold.  I’ve never ceaced to be grateful for them, but I do nuture them.  And I’ve got way better at nuturing over the years.  I spent a long time studying what lead up to one of those times, if anything what had I done? What had I thought?  How had I slept? Thought? Been?  And all have, predicably and influence.  For me it was the kind of steady beliefs I had in myself.  As soon as I became a slave to my circumstances, starting thinking I had no ability to choose my thoughts or emotions, started to assume a victimhood to anyone or anything, the frequencey of my flow moments would decrease.  So spending time each day letting go of thoughts, feelings, ideas, that someone was agaisnst me, that someone was acting as I didn’t want them too, that life somehow was not of my doing or creating has become on of the most important tasks to me.  I stumbled around doing this for years, finding it easier and happier to wallow in blaming others.  But slowly and surely I’ve let that go and headed into a state of blissful creation. Stories spilling out onto the canvas in moments of pure joy.  Now that is way I paint and if probably why I always will.

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