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Monday, July 6, 2009

Hope and Hopelessness Part One

Lately I've had a lot of time to think, so that's exactly what I've done. I've been thinking on Hope and Hopelessness, which coexist as fluidly within my body as my left and right hands.

(Gallery Sitting: Six long and quiet hours on a holiday weekend, with no distractions other than thought provoking art.)

I am a child of Hope, and the days when Hope fills my soul, it shines out of every crevice and pore, bubbling up, the cup overfloweth. I know my purpose, the very reason I was placed here and now, the reason I exist and my job in the long line of humanity. I only wish to exude love, to burn with that higher vibration, to be the humble tongue speaking that others may interpret and learn.

But the other days, the days of Hopelessness, are dark.

I lay at the bottom of the well, asking why, why have you forsaken me? Why does this winged cloud of doubt sink it's claws into my spine? Why am I lost, my eyes scaled, my feet turned inward, hands bound, grasping at the fragile thread of hope which twists and turns at my fingertips?

That these two opposing forces can reside within, fascinates me. But more than that, Hope and Hopelessness are two very real forces within my art, simultaneously beautiful and terrible, but more than anything, Honest. The days of Hopelessness create fodder for the days of Hope, which give way to understanding why it is we are tried by fire. If my work were made of nothing but Hope, it would be beautiful indeed, but devoid of a very real element of human existence. And more than ever, I wish to be sincere.

About a week ago I had a rather profound realization on these lines as I worked in my studio. I came into the studio on a Tuesday, wound up with the stresses in my life, and fluttered around restlessly. Picking up a painting, adding new imagery, washing it out, frustratedly setting it aside, repeat. I left hours later with no sense of accomplishment and only a gnawing feeling that "I must have forgotten how to paint" (this happens to me ever so often). On Thursday when I returned, I arrived with such determination, eyes wide open, waiting for the sign, the sight that would spark my thoughts and open my mind to the messages and meaning I needed to paint that day.

And I received my message.

Paint about Tuesday.

The day was real, part of my existence, even if it was difficult. And how can I possibly grow without acknowledging ALL of the learning that is presented to me? And so I painted, and the oil flowed. My heart was filled, my eyes overflowed. I began a new painting, a new exploration of Hope and Hopelessness and the understanding that both are beautiful, both are part of this life, and even though I prefer one over the other, both make up the message I am clumsily trying to interpret with these two hands.

And so on that note, I leave today for the studio.

Please send me your Hope today friends, like a shower of pale blooms that rains down with the sweetest scent and a feathered grace.


BC said...

You are amazing.

Good Girls Studio said...

sending you lots of hope! Thank you for such a real & honest post..makes me feel less alone with double edged emotions.

jordan said...

TOTALLY hopelessness is one of the most frustrating and neccessary pieces of humanity i think. when you feel it, it makes you question what it is you're doing on the planet - and that sucks big-time (at the time). after a good sleep, a good drink, a good conversation, a good run, whatever helps you give your head a shake, it becomes a bit of a challenge. taunting you to PROVE to yourself that you know what the hell it is you're up to on this earth, why its important, and why you continue to do it despite intermittent periods of that uninvited unsure, unsettled, unhappy feeling. So it's not just artists who feel this; i often struggle to find the relevance in my own job. but then i have a really freaking good day that makes me feel like i was MADE to do what i do. and that's a FABULOUS FEELING.

ps - and you ARE amazing. totally.

mme. bookling said...

this made me reminisce about our little breakfast at glo's.

it also gave me chills.
honesty looks fucking hot on you.

Sunny Rising Leather said...

Amen to the duality and consider hope sent in droves :)

UmberDove said...

And I am so grateful to each of you, Good Girl, you said it best - none of us are alone in this walk.

BC said...

After reading this when you wrote it, I have found that "Paint about Tuesday" is my own secret inspiration. So much heart, meaning and emotion in those three words.

I find it uplifting and a reminder of why I love you and the gift you have been given. Although rough times can be, well rough, I am reminded that we need them to spur us on to greatness. Our greatness will come in the form of hope. I'm ready.

Sparrow's Nest said...

Thank you for sharing. It's never easy. Well said.

Valentina said...

Wow this is amazing. I just started Kundalini Yoga a day ago and one of the meditations was visualizing a bright blue sky from our eyebrows up and an earthly gray from our navel down and holding those two polarities, reflecting on them. Today I found your blog for the first time because of an Annie Dillard googling 'accident' and your painting just blew me away. You've captured the idea so beautifully and it has given me even more to think about in that regard.

Keep on!