Don’t Look Back …
5″x7″ mixed media painting on paper.
… it’s never a good idea.
A painting/photo of a happy person makes me happy. I may even wonder what made them so happy. It will be a passing thought:
‘mmm, what were they so happy about’.
And then I will move on.
A sad person stops me longer. I just can’t help it. Perhaps it is the voyeur in me. I just feel this incredible curiosity well up inside me.
Why are you feeling that way? What happened to you? Is it a fleeting sadness or is it a deep and all encompassing sadness that you can no longer hide. Not for one more second.
Perhaps that is why Mona Lisa has intrigued people for so long. I know she is smiling but I have always felt her smile to be kind of sad in a way. She looks off to the side, kind of longingly. To me, it is a bittersweet smile. Someone with a secret. Maybe a dark secret that she doesn’t want to keep anymore. If she was simply smiling we wouldn’t even give it a second thought. There is something a little dark in that smile.
I have looked back many times in my life. I guess we all have. Let’s face it, if the world was made up of billions of Eckhart Tolles it would be a mighty weird place. I am not saying it would not be a better but it would be weird.
Looking back has never helped me, nor has looking forward, for that matter. Both create great anxiety in me and are extremely unhelpful when I am trying to be creative or make an important decision
.
The biggest mistakes I have made in my life have come about during times when I was either too focused on the future or on the past.
But there I go again, looking back.
So, I must stop.
NOW.
Available on etsy
Undecided
Another painting from my new series “Too Small, Too Young”.
Undecided, 15.5 “x 20”, mixed media painting on wood stretcher.
This series is about being a child now, looking back and/or remembering being a child and also about being an adult/parent watching your child grow up. It is bitter sweet to say the least.
Sometimes I find myself looking at my children and feeling unbearably sad. I know that this sounds crazy but it is because I am not really looking at them right now, instead I am thinking about how much smaller they were not so long ago or how soon they are going to be all grown and leaving me. Awful I know, but it is the truth. I think about how far away my own childhood seems now, how foggy my memories are. How young my parents were.
In many ways, these are timeless paintings. They live neither in or out doors but exist simultaneously in both. If as though, our memories can be in some other plain all together, existing in our mind but also in this place that shifts back and forth, in and out of focus. Often hard for us to grasp completely, save a snippet here, a smidgen there.
I guess in these works I am trying to capture childhood, mine and my children’s and to somehow hold onto it for a little bit longer. If I can’t manage it in real life, perhaps painting it will help me remember to think less and be more.
