paix

"mon nouveau atelier " sur l'autre côté de la mer" where I wear "la chapeau au directrice residente for the VCCA in the village of Auvillar on the banks of the Garonne river "

fearlessness

Once upon a time, there was young girl, who thought she could fly. She believed that if she focused hard enough, her body would take flight and leave the ground. This occurred quite often in her dreams and the image of seeing herself gliding over the landscape below made her feel so free and fearless. This became her obsession upon waking. She knew how hard she could concentrate and she truly believed in the goodness of all things. She loved everyone and everything in her path. She was goodness through and through. Then, it happened, in the deepness of sleep, she found it; her ability to overcome her fears and she knew why she was earth bound without ascension. Her gift for believing in all things good was a good thing, but saw it was a greater skill to embrace fear without fleeing. This she called fearlessness.

dead calm

Not long after the boat left shore, the horizon diminished to a blurry edge, marking the end of the world I knew. Ahead of me lay nothing but the sea; endless, cold and deeper than my soul. The separation grew enormous as I drifted out and further away until nothing made sense. There was no direction to go and there was no reason. None of it had meaning and I had no purpose.

Mon Atelier Art Space

Whether a work of art is in a museum or still on the easel, for the artist, they are linked to one another like siblings, born of the same mother. They may linger on the drawing board as orphans or float around in art limbo, somewhere out on the horizon as her potential offspring. As they take form in other worlds, other mediums, they may resurface as new personas. Impervious to time and space, imagery is boundless. The dream narrative flows like a seamless sleep; herein lies my awakening.

Bluedoor Studio

don't forget to breathe

the days have been sweet with uninterupted pleasure. By the third day of my journey, the mental landscape had already begun to change. Before I left home, it had become difficult to ignore the tightness in my stomach and the sensation of holding my breath...waiting for something to change before I could take another inhale. Then it occured to me; let go. Let go of that. "Let go absolutely"! I would keep walking, I told myself, and breathing... and by nightfall I would reach the summit.

"being nobody going nowhere"

as I pulled into the graveled drive and heard the familiar sound of my tires slowly crunching to a stop, I knew where I was. after several weeks in the south of France with Bernard and his family of Catalanians, I had missed the entire holiday heat wave of 2005. then there it was. the very next thing I saw was a vision of hope, "mon atelier", the new and magnificant studio...waiting for me like the mother of all mothers; promising comfort, adoration and unconditional love. the relationship has been a long one with love affairs and breakups but always the same forgiveness and reconciliation with open arms in the end.

Art Saves Lives

at least this is what the bumper sticker read on the back end of a pickup truck in the parking lot of the SSAC where I work. And every time I see it I am reminded of how true the salvation has been for me.
"when sore beset I seek some empty room or barren wind swept hill and there in silence wait, until I see again the smile upon God's face. And when I turn to take my load, I find it gone." author unknown to me