12/15/2023
Studio minute:
Body: Becoming
Piece: Lone
WIP: 214hrs
I am becoming more and more enamored of this work. As if my hands move on their own. As if all that is inside me cried out in a single breath. An exhalation of all of my desire to create art.
Not a final breath, not frenzied, but surrender all the same. No, this is a slow, metered breath that is singing the hills and valleys, the secret places of my mind into being. I often stare in awe, because these are the things known, but also hidden to me. As if my hand is speaking a language that my tongue refuses to utter for reverence, in penitence. My tongue, though it clings to gentleness, love, truth, has uttered ill, spelled pain.
But never my hands.
They are the only ones allowed to spell my secret places, to write their truths. And I, I watch in wonder and amazement as they become more fluent with each stroke. My nose so close in the doing, that it isn't until I step back that I can grasp the things they've willed into being.
They've reworked the left panel from scratches to lines, from graphite to ink. Now they've begun the slow process of reaching inside the wood to free the thing birthed there by my mind. Patting tummies, massaging small frail limbs, holding close until at last they take their first long breath.
As always, I hope that you are well. Please know that you are loved beyond measure. You are meant to be here. 🥰We need you. Your smile lights a candle in so many hearts. I know that the holidays can be rough. I know how it feels scrolling through the endless posts about family, and feeling nothing but loss, emptiness. Please stay. Because, beyond those feelings, the ones lieing to you, is the truth that you belong here and deserve to be loved.. I love you dearly.❤