I sold a small painting. It feels big.
Writing has been stop and go, though it runs in my mind constantly.
I am writing from family photos. It feels like I am "telling...," something that was much looked down upon in our family. What I understand now, from this perspective of being "grown up!" is that it is all "story." A shared experience is individualized, personalized, when one writes it down. Period.
Today I am feeling like I hit a rather impressive brick wall with my painting. Makes me laugh. A painting is rather like a puppy as it morphs and galumphs toward its mysterious resolution.
Walking in the dusk, with wild geese honking across the river, it occurred to me that all I have to do is to follow my instinct with the painting. Allowing an abstract image to materialize is an exercise in "allowing;" letting form evolve, releasing control...aahhh, hahahah! Today I applied a large area of color, stood back and yelled! It was awful!! Working on large paintings in a small room literally puts my nose in it!
In a bit I am hauling the dry one out into the living room for some distance-viewing! We shall see. Wish me luck!