Don’t you just love the quirky and gnarled? The battered, the wrinkled, the messy? Things embedded with memory and depth. Oh, I do.
|PlayBoy & Other You|
The character lines gently etched into the face of a life fully lived... the twisted trunks of the massive oaks lined along the coastline having survived the constant battering of the gulf winds and the occasional hurricane blast... the patina of a neglected barn with peeling paint, weathered wood, and dissolving tin... the streetlight layered with lost notices, band promotions, and long past estate sales all torn, rain washed, and smudge with a glaze of graffiti... the faded grace of an abandon plantation, column capital toppled almost encapsulated with kudzu and morning glory, crumbling bits of stone slowly eroding back to earth.
|Texture from Life|
Don’t get me wrong, I also adore the clean, the sparse, and the new. Philip Johnson’s glass house... crisp freshly laundered Porthault bed linens... a brand new totally hot (if a bit pretentious) sports car... a baby’s just powdered silky smooth belly... saturated pure red paint straight from the tube.
It is the middle that is less lovable. The first scratch on your brand new bike... the first scuff on your leather sofa... the first brown droop on a bouquet of flowers... the first chip on your favorite mug... the first ugly age spot... the first fight with a new lover.
It is the pain of imperfection, the passing of what will never be again. It’s accepting change and the fleetingness of our earthly existence. (Ok, I’m reading too much into this, but I am in an introspective mood so I’ve got a little melodrama going on, but you get the idea)
It is about letting go of the unobtainable and enjoying the messiness of life. It’s picking up the broken seashells instead of holding out for the unblemished ones. It’s seeing past perfection and valuing the less obvious. Freeing your mind of absolutes and marveling in the amazing variations abounding all around.
It almost seems trite to pull my musing back to art but the trite can also be true. Perfection can become boring. Asymmetry tends to hold our attention longer. Our eyes are drawn back to the unique and different. It is why I love creating collaged backgrounds and paintings started over old text. There is something underneath -even if it barely shows in the final piece. It is the beauty of journalling then gessoing over it and purposely skewing the proportions of a character. It imparts soul and secrets. It gives backstory that I think a viewer picks up, even if only subliminally.
It is a lot like life. Who doesn’t want a smooth carefree breezy Disney style reality -but it’s the struggles that truly mold us. It’s when we overcome adversity or handicap that we grow. We tend to shine brightest in the dark.
|Good Morning PJ Girl|
"A woman is like a tea bag, you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water." - Eleanor Roosevelt
I believe that God never puts anything in our life without reason. We can opt to disregard its purpose but we are blessed and able to bless others so much more if we don’t.
What hardships have you faced that you can now take and use -even if it’s just a greater capacity for compassion and empathy?