Thursday, June 5, 2014

An Intruder and a Companion


As I made this painting I was thinking about how grief tends to burst into your life like an unwelcome house guest. It blows open the doors like a storm wind and turns the whole house upside down. It comes without warning and leaves just the same way. When you're in the midst of it, you never know how long it will linger, and you can't make it leave, but that doesn't mean you have to abide it's company alone. 

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Her Tiny Golden Shoes

Her Tiny Golden Shoes
10 X 10
Oil on Panel
My daughter has this pair of tiny golden shoes that she just loves. When I first put them on her, she would pull them off, turn them over and over in her hands, and shove them in her mouth. No toy could have been more amusing. She has rolled and crawled in them and toddled around holding on to her parents fingers.  In these shoes, I’ve also seen her reach just a little too far, move just a little too fast, and suffer bumps and bruises for her trouble.  Now, she has just about outgrown them, and I cant help but think about how these shoes, and the steps she takes in them, are just one in a line of many. Her strides will get longer, her falls will get harder, and I might not always be able to pick her up. But right now, these are just the first shoes and first steps and  I’m just going to just enjoy this time when they are so small and she still needs to hold my hands.

I changed this piece since I started it to amp up the color and make the labyrinth a bit more subtle. I like the image above a bit better, but in the interest of showing my process (which involves a lot of destruction), here's a photo I snapped of what it looked like before.

S0534586

Monday, May 12, 2014

Friday, April 25, 2014

Mary and Martha


When I made this painting, I was thinking of this particular instance with Mary and Martha from the New Testament. Though Martha was busy with many needful things, Mary's focus was on the MOST needful things.  Her relationship with Christ was paramount. As I internalized this account, I thought of Mary and Martha less as two distinct people and more as two sides of the same person—two sides of myself—the side that reacts reflexively to urgent tasks, and the side that prioritizes the most important things.  When I consider where my focus is each day, this account forces me to ask, “Am I choosing the good part.”