Sometimes you need a break

Its been a hard year. Yes... its only May, but it feels like its been forever. I have been in something of a creative funk, honestly. Sometimes I push too hard, and the only thing I can do is step back and wait for the flame to slowly build again.

While painting has been my main love (as far as creativity goes), I have never been shy about moving into other mediums and skills. I think the only way I have nurtured my creativity though some of the b*llsh*t that faces us is by revisiting some much loved past outlets. Collage has been the small light in the dark expanse for some time.

Sure, I have painted on an off... but nothing serious. I think I have completed one painting to my standard in the last 8 months, though to be honest, I have hardly picked up a brush. I have my water color journal and travel Artists Tool Kit, which I will visit from time to time, but still... nothing concrete.

Recently my beloved studio assistant (cat) Willie passed away. It was incredibly sudden and he was so very young. It rocked our household.

Willie, a handsome brown tabby perched on an orange blanket.

Willie was my shadow, if I was home he was by my side. His absence has been hard to grapple and like anyone avoiding deep pain, I am throwing myself into projects. Creative and otherwise.

Healthy? No, probably not. Transmuting pain into something isn't a new thing, in fact I'd wager that everyone has done it a time or two. I am aware that it is a deep avoidance of the pain in my heart, and try to remember to allow myself to feel its full force from time to time.

So I started small, with object collage. Some time ago, I had a morning habit (almost like morning pages) of arranging various objects and photographing it. Sometimes I try to tell a story, other times I simply like the aesthetic but over time, life crept in and this time I carved out for myself got pushed into the background.

With this deep whole in my heart that needs filling, I decided to make it a priority again. As I started to make this time (and pursue my avoidance), my creativity began to smolder once more.

Various objects arranged and photographed: a tiny die, a small green army man toy, a vintage radio tube, a bat, and some white glass attached to wire.

As this heat began to grow, assemblage pieces began to take shape. Assemblage is a challenging medium for me. Where painting relies on my skill and intuition to bring a piece to completion, assemblage requires all the correct objects to be found or created and arranged. Installation time for each individual item involved in a single piece can take up to a full day, waiting for adhesives to cure fully. It is a labor of love and patience, that I don't always have.

Tea tags arranged carefully with a coating of gesso, ground and watercolor. There will be many more layers of watercolor before they are finished. This assemblage piece will feature dried tea bags that were preserved and prepared for long term installation over months.

And finally.... I am called back to the easel. Working on a piece that was begun during my photoshoot with 1889 Magazine, something I never planned to finish. I am called to try something new. A distant black lit building set against a dark sky and crashing waves.

Unfinished abstract painting reflecting distant black lit building set against a dark sky and crashing waves.

Being aware of this emotional avoidance is uncomfortable. Knowing that I am standing near the chasm of grief and doing my best to side step or outright avoid it feels like folly, or simply inauthentic. I have spent my entire life disassociating from strong emotion, I have spent years working to reconnect with my feels and feel them fully. It is ongoing work, and the motivation to keep it up right now is low. Not just for the loss of my beloved, Willie... but for the United States and the state of humanity as a whole.

Dark have been my dreams of late.