This piece calls me to a place of imagination. I have had almost three weeks with it before it is to be given away, three weeks to prepare myself for the inevitable ending. I prop it up on my mantle and it literally takes my breath away (I don’t think you’re supposed to say things like that about your own work, but I have this strange ability to look at a painting as though it is not my own).
As I become lost in the puffy clouds and crisp breeze, I feel aware, as though I just depicted my own soul on canvas. And yet it is for someone else. How does that happen? Still, they mingle intimately for a time, as though there is an uncertainty…a giving up of a sort of child for adoption. It is amazing how attached I become…almost as if I myself am related to the message.
With each new painting, I experience something I have never felt before…and yet I just keep feeling that same sense of newness. How many times can you say that before the words themselves become old?!
Only when it is given away can I start new again.
And that is where grace finds me.