reason inverted: September 2013

Almost a year ago, I was in the hospital recovering from a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. When I was lucid enough to reflect on anything specific, I often thought about getting back to the studio. In my morphine-fueled fever dreams, my studio appeared spacious, filled with beautiful light, clean, tidy, organized, sparsely furnished, with wide expanses of white walls on which to work. At some point, it dawned on me that I had left brushes soaking, and I asked my civilian (non-artist) husband to clean them for me. That was my only point of reference to the real reality of the condition my studio.

Once I was home and managed to go out to the studio, I was dismayed to find not the spacious, airy space of my fever dreams. but a smallish, darkish space with stuff all over the place, like someone had just spent a lot of time in there painting and left in the middle of a painting session--brushes were clean, though. I did not yet have the energy to face such a mess. I was going to have to spend a bit of time considering what was ahead of me.

Me, on the porch of the studio ~~pondering~~ avoiding the mess inside.

Eventually, I felt stronger, changes in medication brought fewer side effects, and my restlessness drove me back into the studio. I spent the next few months picking up where I had left off, sort of.

selvedge no.1

9 x 12

acrylic on panel

2012

selvedge no. 2

9 x 12

acrylic on panel

2012

These are a couple of the paintings I returned to. But after a few months, I just wasn't feeling the acrylic vibe I had going before the aneurysm. Time to regroup.

Changing the medium seemed to be the thing. Shifted to wax/mixed media.

I fell into a what-the-hell, let-me-see-what-happens phase.

Whoops. What happened was a bit much.

Still like it, but it's not quite where I wanted to go.