heartsong {etsy} |
Something strange has been happening at my art table lately. Strange, but good.
It goes something like this:
I pine for my art-making, miss it deeply. And then -- surprise! My sweet son surprises me with the gift of a nap, and I run for the art table.
I sit. I stand up, procrastinate, sit again. I shuffle things about.
what is this place? {art journal page} |
And then -- I begin. I dip my brush into paint or water and begin.
It feels awkward. I paint anyway.
All of a sudden, I am overcome by emotion. I want to lay my head and heart down against the painting and press my skin, my self, against it and into it. I want to cry. I do cry.
I keep painting.
peace {in progress} |
Something special is born on the canvas, something unexpected. The pieces, they feel raw and tender and bittersweet.
They are, I think, a picture of the insides of my heart.
I don't know how this is happening. But I am so glad that it is. It is a gift. Thank you, God.
you are not too much {etsy} |
I try not to hold this gift too tightly, because won't it stop being a gift if I expect it, demand something of it? I try and hold it as I would a bird, all earth-colored feathers, light and trembling and soft.
I don't know who I'm becoming. What my art is becoming. Everything feels broken today and these days.
What is this new thing?
I have no answers, hear no reply. So I keep painting, when I can, as I can.
after the storm {etsy} |
What is this new thing?
linking up with:
* * *