Sometimes…

There is a cool possibility that maybe, I don’t know, but…

I’m getting that reminder again.

It seems like every time I get away from doing art, something always pulls me back.

Art is a funny thing. It’s superfluous. It’s not practical or even nessesary. Survival has little or nothing to do with art.

Yet, art has a power over me that I can’t deny or ignore for long.

I try.

Life seems to do everything it can to distract me. I often find myself in circumstances that distract me for every understandable reason imaginable.

Finding supportive friends in a sea of practicality is challenging, but I’ve done it. Even here in the NE. Still, I have a big chunk of my life revolving around the most uncreative pastimes.

Yesterday, I was caught between two conversations. One had to do with lawn maintenance and neighbors who choose fertilizer over organic lawn care. The other was about art.

Oh art… art art art…no contest for me.

Don’t get me wrong. I care. (plus I really do strive to be practical)

It’s just that, well, the pull from art gives me a more expansive perspective. When I’m really feeling low, I miss, I grieve for, I CRAVE inspired creative expansion. I don’t know how better to explain it. Little details that circle around and around seem to feel like a spiral downward and that circle feels like a funnel, like backwards Fibonacci, getting smaller and tighter and more constricted.

I think we all have a different balance for our comfort levels and when it gets off, we feel off. For me it seems that if I don’t experience newness from someone’s innovated creation process (mine included), regularly, I lose some of my lightness. Weirdly a measure of hope disappears with it.

I can exist for awhile and have, but it’s like when I have too much time between yoga, when I exist without it, I don’t feel as healthy.

Once again I am being reminded of how important art is to, I guess my outlook. What I find most interesting today, is the familiar little nudge or tug. I never know where it will come from, but I love that it shows up. I love the serendipity, the randomness and the unmistakable power that inserts itself into whatever is going on.

My friend and long time collector of my art, just got keys to her new gallery space.

In LaJolla, CA.

On Prospect St.

Suddenly, I have a reason to paint. A very good reason. A weirdly fun, dream-come-true kind of reason that only the comic ethos could dream up just for me.

Meanwhile, I’m waiting for a callback from the WiFi carrier…and discussing why brown patches are spreading across the lawn…