I paint to get to the bones about something. I’m studying lines, emotions, shapes; beauty within the cracks of imperfection. I’m not afraid to wrestle with all of what makes a subject tick, what scars show up under the moonlight or the pain that the subject may have caused me , or even the outside world. When in process, I become the subject. I walk around inside the being , the beloved, as I am wearing the skin of it. I breathe her air, I gallop freely with nothing holding me back, I am the painting itself. I cannot, not paint because it is me like fingers to a hand. I hunger for the splashes of color thrown out of my finger tips like lightening from a storm onto the canvas ground, each shock moving my heart in vibrations of wisdom and knowing more intricately of how the universe works. My body cannot rest when it is burning with desire to become a life on canvas. Fellow creators understand this as if creating is our God. I live to create, transform, and help others in their personal journeys.
This is a study on vulnerability in the beginning stages of love. Patience is the mothers milk responsible for its growth and the older we get, the more we protect the tiny seed of hope as the cynical world knocks at our souls threatening to abduct the hope that we so desperately fight to hold onto. Horse mythology traditionally suggests that in death, we are carried to the heavens by a white horse that serves as our guide to the other side. This study suggests that my guide protects the seed of hope of unconditional love. The growth that happens when we accept our limitations and choose to love through the unknowable a, fear, cynicism, doubt and rejection. I spent the entire day while painting this asking for my guides and my father to protect the realm of the heart for me. The seed of hope revealed herself.
Create a life of passion not regret.