When we look at ourselves, our bodies have certain, limited dimensions. However, think about the words we use to describe our interior space. We talk about the depth of our sorrow, the expansiveness of our joy, the endless pit of despair. We describe our thoughts and feelings, often, as limitless, even though our bodies are quite limited in size and scope. That, I believe, is a reflection of our spiritual dimension. We know we are larger than we seem. Much larger. In the Dept
The artist beckons the muse, leaps into the creative flow, and allows herself to be completely submerged. What she encounters can lead to euphoria, despair, joy, fear ~ the entire wheel of emotions. Then she must dare to express what she has seen, to bare her soul to even the most casual eye. Is this difficult? No, it is simply necessary. A Deliberate Choice It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult. ……..
My post about printmaker Karen Kunc prompted a comment from artist Deb Sims: Am I the only one who has both a sense of “Wow, how fabulous” and “Geez, I can never hope to experience/create/attain this level with my art” when I see someone like this? My reply? I think there is a great chain of art making and, like the great chain of being, it has its levels. While you are busy looking “up” the chain and wondering if you could ever achieve that level, someone else is gazing up a
It’s hard not to take things a little too seriously sometimes. You know what I’m talking about~those dark nights of the soul where you despair of ever being a good enough artist to meet your own exacting standards, or you’re good enough but despair of being noticed, or you are being noticed but despair of having the time to make enough art to pay the mortgage, or you are just practicing getting into despair because, well, they say it’s a necessary ingredient for producing rea