Spent.

Upon finishing this painting today, I felt thrilled and utterly exhausted.  I’m spent, but in the best way.  I’ve given my all this week, to life, to love, and to art. I even cleaned the kitchen. And it feels great.

I mentioned earlier this week, the affirmations and messages that were pouring in to combat the questions and fears, and they keep coming.  From the exact supplies we’ve needed simply being handed to us by the boxfuls  to encouragement from strangers.

In the words a friend, take it in, drink in the little victories along the way.

And that is exactly what I will do.

Art, when you need it the most.

The past few days have been a struggle, tiny little teeth are reeking havoc on our sleep and the baby’s mouth.  As I’m preparing to show my art this weekend, I feel this flood of ridiculous ideas, things that want to hold me back from sharing,  silly nonsense that is trying to combat my excitement. I know it’s all opposition, a force trying to damper this amazing creative surge that I’m experiencing.

It’s no coincidence that signs of encouragement are everywhere, whispering, we are intrepid, we carry on.  All these little messages reinforcing, pushing me on. I sign into twitter and I read,

"Blessed is he who has found his work." —Van Gogh

I read new posts on blogs I follow and this jumps out of the screen,

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

-e.e. cummings

You’d think I’d get the message.  And I do. Most of the time.

But on occasion, I’ve felt silly for telling people I’m an artist, when they ask, what I do.  As if, being an artist isn’t a real thing, like an accountant or a nurse.  I think, well, I play around with paint and I design stuff.

As if being an artist isn’t a real thing? Surely, my most ridiculous thought to date.  Because, I know more than anything that it is.  I mean, just look at nature.  Consider how every single day we are given these works of art, in the painted sunrise, the fall trees ablaze with the season’s greetings, the sparkling, blue waters dancing in the sunlight, how mountains take your breath away, the magic in your daughters eyes when you have come to the end of yourself and then she melts comforted into your shoulder, the mischievous smirk of a little boy rolling in the crunchy fall leaves.  The way he gets really close to his little sister, looks her in the face and says, hi pretty baby. It’s all art.

And the thing about art is this, on the days when you fail to recognize it for yourself,  it has a way of reminding you, exactly who you are.

It’s simple. Birds never question their ability to fly. You were meant for greatness.

Find this painting in the shop.

What helps you when you start to wonder if what you do isn’t a real thing? What speaks to you in a way you’ll notice?  Where did you find art today?

 

On art shows and transparency

This week is all about art, as I’m  getting ready to display my collection  at a local coffee shop.  It will be my second official exhibit, but technically my third.  You see, I went to a college where boys and girls were not allowed in each other’s dorm rooms, except for a few hours a week, as crazy as that may sound, it was just fine.  One day some friends wanted to see my art, so we brought it all out and lined the balcony.  My funny roommates felt left out so they searched for art projects made by the preschoolers they taught and other random things and displayed those too.  It was the best time, but I was terrified that all my mystery would evaporate as certain individuals looked at my paintings. I wondered if my art would give away secrets that I was probably already failing to keep. “Trust me, everyone is less mysterious than they think they are.” A few random people walked by on their way down the stairs, but it mostly a private exhibit, with a handful of friends. So exclusive.  I’ll never forget it.

Here’s the thing about sharing your art with others.  It’s wonderful. It’s great. It’s terribly frightening.  Strangers standing face to face with some of your truest expressions.  Things to marvelous for words uttered in hues of paint. What if they hated it?  What would they think?  And you never know because you leave your art in a foreign place and willingly welcome critics.  Maybe artists are crazy, after all.

But beyond the crippling roadblock of transparency, you know art is meant to be shared, because you, the artist have something to say, a message, an idea, a dream.  It begins deep inside and as it grows,  it begs to be brought to life.  You never really know how it will speak to others, but you are only responsible to create.  You art will speak for itself.  

I’ve been sensing for a while, this shift here on The Saturated Palette, a return to the things which led me to blogging in the beginning, art, creativity, meaning, faith, inspiration.  So, if you have questions or things you’d love to start a conversation about, let me know.  You can leave comments here or send me an e-mail, liv AT furthermorecreative DOT com.

Also, I’ll be removing most original paintings from my shop for the show, so if you’ve been eyeing one for your home, they will be available until Thursday, September 29, 2011. 

And, have you entered the caption contest yet?