My family doesn’t even know what a gift they’ve given me, but because they’re all somewhere else, I have the house all to myself. I’ve painted all day and just enjoyed a delicious Mars bar for supper while I sip a glass of red wine. Bliss!
Last year, I began to create paintings based on storms and I loved making them. There is something so comforting about darkening skies, thunder that shakes you to your core, and a light show from the heavens. On June 8th, a storm hit Thunder Bay (you can imagine how it was named), and the internet exploded with gorgeous pictures of the sky that morning.
In high school, my art teacher introduced me to the Casa Mila and the only reason I remember it is because she enjoyed using the word undulating to describe it’s gorgeous exterior. This is the only word I could use to describe the clouds that morning, as the tumultuous skies ebbed and flowed with the emotional release from Mother Nature.
Yesterday, I was listening to Danielle Krysa speak with Gio Swaby on a recent episode of Art For Your Ear (you should subscribe). As they began to talk about Gio’s work, I was fascinated by the descriptions of images I could picture in my mind (I was enjoying my drive between Terrace Bay and Red Rock), filled with fabrics, thread and beautiful colours. When Danielle confirmed that these artworks were life-sized, something in my mind clicked. What if there is a way to work my way into my paintings? To make them more personal?
The idea grew as I put brush to canvas, and as I painted the storm, I began to paint myself. The soft lights in the sky became mixtures of my flesh tones contrasted against the darkness of the churning storm. I saw my anxiety in the bruised, fleshy hues, battered by unceasing and relentless thoughts that are whipped around in my mind. The search for peace, a spot of light, a reprieve.
Time to find a new canvas, to see how I can push this idea a bit further. Until then, it’s time for the next course: Old Dutch Rip-L chips & sour cream. Oh, and maybe an episode of Lucifer.