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Sunday, January 15, 2012

My Blue.

I've been doing alot more hands on art these days. Maybe it's because it's cold outside and my camera doesn't get to see as many pretty flowers. Or maybe it's because my soul is hungry for something different. I'm not really sure. But either way, I know it's good for me.

I layer papers down on canvas. Paint over them. Pull some layers off. Keep some layers on. Add new ones. Sort of like in our lives. We take parts of ourself away. Yet find there are pieces of us that are stuck. We can't remove them and maybe we don't want to. Instead, we add to them. And all together, these parts become very beautiful. Standing alone, the parts aren't always so pretty.

This winter I also started talking more walks on the beach. I don't swim, so the water really never drew me in. Until now. I look for beach finds for my art work. So now, a walk on the beach calls to me. Inspires me. Clears my head. So, I guess in a way, I do swim now. Not in the water, but in my mind.

I search. Not for the new, but the old. Because old papers and pieces seem to fit my work better than new stuff. And I think that is all part of my discovery. That new isn't always better or beautiful. Lines and cracks create a texture that money can't buy. There is beauty in age that you can't find in new.

And the colors. I'm realizing now that color can't be bought. It's discovered. You can't buy the perfect blue, you have to make it. Because no one can make your perfect blue. Except you. I'm still searching.

And the mistakes I make. Sometimes even they are beautiful. Sometimes they are downright ugly. I keep the beautiful mistakes. And I build over the ugly ones. I can't erase them. So instead, I make them part of the the story. And even if the world can't see them, I know the truth. The mistakes are still there. They will always be there. But building from them instead of erasing them makes me feel more honest with myself.

For me, the pieces I create are not products, but instead stories. Stories of me. My life. My sadness. My happiness. My struggle. My yesterday. My today. And my hopes for tomorrow.

And my search for my perfect blue.

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