And when I do find it I fall in love. The love makes me work even more delicately, more meticulously. I am fearful that I will blemish it. When the last brush stroke has been played I will hang it in the most visible place in my house and let it sing to me.
I know that selling my work is what I am supposed to be working towards, but the emotion of letting it go is sometimes overwhelming.
I still feel sad when I think of my ‘Egret’ I sold 15 years ago. I miss him. I just sold ‘Red Mountain’ and I seriously feel as if I have lost something so precious to me. I cried when I left my watercolors at Jezebel’s Gallery knowing that I would never see them again. Some tell me to just paint another one, but they do not understand. I will never be able to recreate ‘Red Mountain’ or ‘Searching for the Source’. They hold my secrets and their colors resonate a feeling of love to me. It must have something to do with the exchange of energies.
My wish is that those that buy my paintings will have the same connection as I do. See the magic, hear the symphony , allow the light to reveal the secrets of my soul.
Creating my paintings is like composing music. I start with a chorus of colors, a stroke of the brush, and let the images tune in as the composition begins.
Always trying new color combinations, wanting more than I am capable of producing visually. Chasing that color spectrum from another world or place I went to, but could not bring back.
I want to break the rules and prove I am right. And when it gets really terrifying to go any further I stop. Now is the time to listen with my eyes. I start turning it from one side to the other. One of the angles will reveal itself. I know there is a message in there somewhere. I just have to keep turning it, working it and eventually I will find it.
