August 24, 2018
I definitely paint one way during the summer, and allow other painting techniques to take over my mark-making in the winter. I also, just, paint more in the summer. Hm.
As I paddle out and dive into my lovely lake, I have memories of the feeling of milfoil and slimy underwater rocks and crunchy grass that follow me home. Wading up to my thighs while sipping on a cider and discussing sailing adventures with Hannah, turning away from the sun when my forehead starts to sear. Gazing at the soft, sparkling reflection of light from here to the mountains at sundown. Things feel extra inspiring when there's that much calm.
My friends label me "nostalgic" and I agree; I've been on a constant quest of preservation and analysis of everything I've experienced, all my life. Like a weird, pinecone-collecting archaeologist wannabe. It's a balancing act to preserve the past while basking in the now, and I often let myself hop right onto my Willie Wonka boat ride through wonderfully distracting thoughts. And there's so much, oh my gosh. I want to feel everything, because then I'll remember it. (This is why I draw numbers in the air with my finger when I need to remember them; if I can see it and feel it, then I'll remember.)
But then, does the act of associating past memories with present experiences count as "not living in the moment"? Sometimes it's hard to tell if I'm being present or if I'm just daydreaming while I should be enjoying my surroundings on a deeper level. Or maybe I just do things my own way and that's okay? Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in trouble? Ok, let's say that both exercises count as useful. Maybe I should hit up a meditation class and see where that takes me.
For now, nine new summer paintings have now been added to my online gallery for you to browse, to see what I've been up to this warm season. And, make sure you look from close up, so you can feel what I felt.