Tuesday, 15 May 2012

The absence of doubt

Living peacefully. Not wondering which way to fly because it's clear. Instinctually following your heart. Knowing that you have all you need. Not fearing the next season. Not being worried about anything at all. The beautiful, liberating, intoxicating absence of doubt.  


Straight line to self esteem

Looking confident, she turned her head away from me. "You are not going to disturb me", her posture seemed to suggest. "Not only will I not get closer to you, I am not planning on any kind of interaction with you whatsoever. But, stay for all I care, for it would not make a difference if you broke out in a song." 

I giggled as silently as I could. Knowing that the slightest movement on my part would send her flying off to the branches above us, I lingered and watched. Her strut was remarkably proud. Almost appearing arrogant, she made her way further down the yellow line. Straight to self awareness, pride and foolish young conviction. Her healthy self esteem was almost enviable. Or was it just one of life's little performances? 


Thursday, 3 May 2012

Happiness is a fish you can catch

Or can you? Raine Maida didn't think so, but I disagree. I managed to capture mine, hook, line and sinker. 

The hook being a thin piece of glass, the line the medium to encase it, the sinker the sweltering heat to seal it. I desperately wanted to catch this little fish. So beautiful, shiny, full of New Year's Promise. Chinese chocolate wrappers. I could not discard them. The brilliant shine, the sultry contrast of the 'prosperous' gold and the 'happy' red. The conversation between the satiny finish of the cadmium painting and the slick, look-at-me naphthol foil. It was meant to be. 

Maybe, just maybe, you can catch happiness. I can only hope that it's contagious. 

The heated debate, west of the marsh

They gathered as quickly as the assembly calls were shouted out. Flying in from all directions, they settled on their favourite tree. Wrapping their delicate feet around the tree's arms, the crows soon resembled tiny pieces of onyx sprinkled on a veil of branches. Once settled in, the debate broke out. Cawing. Soft and loud, sharp voices as well as mellow ones, shy bits and outrageous accusations. I closed my eyes. As shadows of a few stragglers passed over my tilted head, I indulged and imagined what they were discussing. 

Was the dialogue human-like? 

"Where did you go? I was waiting for you!", an anxious inquiry. 
"I'm sorry - I got distracted by the river.", a sheepish reply.

I suppose it was not human-like at all. My best guess is something not just more animalistic, but more importantly, more instinctual. Removed from reactionary exchanges and rather of the moment. 


Tuesday, 1 May 2012

The story behind the black boots

She came over from her rural spot on the island. Wearing jean shorts, a thin black veil of a pretty top and a beautiful bra peeking through, she seemed happy to be back in the city. We had lunch by the train tracks, laughed our butts off and shot hundreds of pictures of each other. 

She's stunning. There are so many ways to describe her shine. Here are just some words I'd have to include, if I had to choose this way to tell you about her: young, slender-limbed, black haired, sensual, confident, self-aware, breathtakingly beautiful, life loving.

I painted her three times. My favourite was a piece called "Black Boots". I kept it for a long time for myself. I try not to get attached to my paintings, choosing to send them out to brighten someone else's life instead. This one I loved dearly. In the end, I gave it away. No money, a pure donation. It raised more than its value for an amazing charity. Cancer research, in honour of my grandmother. 

Combine the power of a well run foundation, publicity generated by a media savvy young crowd, generosity of a live auction bidder and the appeal of a sexy woman and you get a benefit far beyond the enjoyment of a painting hanging on my wall.