Wednesday, November 3, 2010

the artist soul

People ask me why I paint.  It is hard for me to answer.  My mom tells me that as soon as I could hold a crayon and then a pencil I was drawing.  Stick horses.  Over time she said the horses became more and more realistic.  She watched me evolve.  I don't remember that but I believe my mom.  Because I can't remember NOT painting or drawing.  It is just something I have always done.  A need, a compulsion I guess you could say.


"birch trees" painted when I was 12

The next thing people usually ask about is whether I have had lessons.  The only "lessons" I had were two summers in the southern California desert while I spent time with my Grammy.  Erma Washburn was her name, an elderly lady who told me she had trained with "the masters" and had an oil painting medium that was a secret (I think she got the recipe for it from the master she painted with).  I had fun those summers, and learned a good bit about painting with oils.  The only other art instruction I had was in high school, my junior and senior year I took a crafts class and an art class.  Of course those were my favorite classes.

basket babes
So why do I paint?  The only answer I give is that I paint what touches me, what comes into my mind, what I want to try to share with the world.  I paint emotions.  What I feel when I am creating that painting.  It comes from so deeply within me that it is not a conscious thing, and to try to explain it is like trying to explain what a soul is.  There simply are no words. 


morning in california



So I will share a few of my feelings with you.  My paintings.  And maybe you can understand a bit more about me.  And what painting, and art, means to me.  I think that the main feeling I want to convey is a feeling of joy.  The joy of living.  That is part of everything I lay my hand to. 
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