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A spark to a flicker, a flicker to a flame. The flame might just set you on fire! …Hot coals hold great potential, but without some fresh air and a bit of prodding they just burn out.  On the other hand… if you have last week’s newspaper, a bad romance novel, or an old pair of sneakers that didn’t take you where you wanted to go anyway, throw them in! A little inspiration can ignite your furnace, even if it’s old and tired.  And there’s nothing better than warm toes.

Yesterday I woke up with a long missed sense of peace. A few things that really matter finally found direction. A few things that shouldn’t matter at all, realized…that they don’t.

A trilogy of rejection from ‘credible’ sources brought the conclusion that they bare little weight in the scheme of creating art.  Perhaps they have some effect in producing an income from it, but its creation is another game entirely.

For me to pretend that some acceptance from the ‘jury’ would not be valuable, would lack the truth. But perhaps it is not that jury that I should concern myself with.  Perhaps it is only the jury of civilization that I interact with every day, everywhere, that should cause me any regard.

My husband is politically absorbed.  He reads tirelessly about the state of the world and all that ails it, and he pains for a way to improve it.  I often think of how I might depict the suffering and injustice that goes on.  He says I cannot communicate that part of history, as I have not lived it. I cannot portray it vigorously, as I am not in the trenches.

I’ll think about that for a while… and get back to you.

For now – I’ll focus on the ‘depicting’ part.  Painting life as I know it with enough freedom and passion to move someone. Or stop them.  Either response proves effective.

I have no paintings to show you today. I am working, but a friend challenged me to slow down and observe more.  Paint, stop, come back, look, come back again, and move a bit more intimately with what I have in front of me.  So I’ve begun a small project of sorts.  I have several canvases in progress at the studio, none of witch I will call complete until I have sat with them for a little while. Perhaps they will never be finished. They may just live with me in the trenches…forever.  Or they may someday vibrate life as I see it, slowly, purely, and with a bit more ease.


2 Responses to Spark

Not sure I agree with Tom that one can’t depict a situation if they haven’t lived it. Robert Olin Butler writes convincingly about Vietnamese women in A GOOD SCENT FROM A STRANGE MOUNTAIN and he’s an American male. If one has the ability to identify with the essence of an experience, and the skill to translate it into another medium, then I don’t see why they couldn’t convey the information to others. To quote ceramic artist Takeshi Maruyama, “An Artist sees the invisible, and makes it visible.”

Your last paragraph prompts me to suggest a website a friend just sent, for inspiration: /

I love your posts, Kelly; you are always so stimulating…

Posted by Diane Pool · via · 132 months ago

I’m so glad to see that last comment. I felt the same way but didn’t know how to say it. This morning I though that there is only one person who can express what ‘it’ means to you.

Posted by Reed · via · 132 months ago


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