This is my next mirror in progress. I am incorporating a drawing of a neighbor's lilly I started and figured I would never use for anything. The drawing already echoes the influence of stained glass. I keep wanting to cut space up in chunks, color it and mix it up. I love the richness of fabric design mixed with the colored pencil images and glass. It just works for me.
I'm resisting the urge to be philosophical about the whole thing. One co-worker told me I have to stop using big words. Some things can only be described with certain words or phrases...so let me pontificate. (No apologies). This is what my life has felt like. Shapeless scraps in piles on the floor, broken pieces of situations and desires, disparate, disjointed...things I don't understand, insignificant and without overall form and beauty. Lacking cohesion, purpose, co-existence. But something happens when I start arranging, looking for clues and harmony, fluid lines of understanding. It all begins to be something. Rich and complex, pleasing, touchable, strong. I love what I am doing now creatively and it translates into a purposeful path that pulls together everything that has happened before in its wake. And some things don't need to be explained. They just need to be in their right place.
This brings me such joy, immediate pleasure, the outworking of the cutting, moving pieces around, drawing into blank space, creating my own textured reality. The only reason it exists is because I'm here to call it into being.
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