Paint, words, holes.

My paintings of late have continued to employ intensifying spirals and swirls. Roots and thorns protruding, flashes of electricity and synapses connecting a diverse array of eyes, irises and pupils, a play of shadows and light. Symbols of life and death, growth and decay, phases and layers, never ending and ever deepening cycles. Such is life. Particularly so for the person who has been set free of oppression, both external and internal, real and imagined. We can find a rabbit hole of discovery in every experience, each smile, bite, nibble, outright pain and melancholic moment, intense orgasmic joy, mutual peruse and the like. We feel everything, often immensely, and yet detach ourselves from those feelings and any expectations arising from them. Purposely much of the time, so that we can observe our own feelings from a distance. We sit with them, question them, seek our triggers, discover the roots, clip the thorns, accept full responsibility for them, for they are ours and we own them. Every. Single. One. 

When I paint I immerse myself in those feelings and express them as best I can in the form of color and shades of light and shadow. My paint brush guiding the flow, providing texture and fluidity with each stroke. My writing …well …here you are reading it for yourself. Each word chosen specifically to express the depth of the feeling being observed. Exploring the dimensions within the often superficial apex of the rabbit hole. Even the choosing of the exact word is in and of itself a bunny jump.

So here I sit on a sunny but breezy Saturday in my new digs in New West, in front of my computer screen. Not that I'm not enjoying the weather from my perch in front of my large kitchen window. I find it comforting to watch the play of the sunlight on the branches of the cedar that grows in the neighbor's yard. The pale blue sky clear except for the stream left by another flight arriving or leaving YVR. I love this oasis of solitude within the ordered chaos that lies just beyond my view from behind the glass. 

As I have both plenty and nothing to do this afternoon, I will stop at this juncture. This fork in the road... but suffice to say... the words are flowing again. Peace, love and rainbows.