I have been away.
I have been away
I have really been away all year.
Present yet absent.
Here but really there.
I have been ill and have had about the very worst year I believe I have ever had.
I have never felt lower.
Or more frightened, or hopeless.
More frazzled and frail than this year.
It has been the very hardest on my soul.
It has stretched me in ways I will never recover from yet I will use in my work.
My Dad’s death sent me into a frenzy of overwork.
I lived on coffee and ate little.
I would go hours and hours.
a wrong prescription for an antidepressant tipped my Spring and Summer into a full-blown mania.
I had to stabilize and sort fact from fiction.
I unfortunately, was under the care of a doctor who was not 100% qualified to be prescribing psychiatric meds
It caused an issue for me and I need to go to hospital two times this past year to get my chemistry working right.
Winston Churchill was Bi-Polar too.
(We are both bulldogs but man he had his moments, I have mine)
I should have listened to Winston, man…
I had been away from all creative work for so long and I was so disconnected from everything.
I stayed away and kept to myself all year.
where do I get off “telling” YOU!
As an artist I had lost my way and my desire to continue.
What was the point at this point?
And I cared not one wit as I hated it anyway.
and ever to be created.
A sham and nothing but a heartache to anyone fool enough to try her horrid “ROAD”
Or journey through the vast and expansive desert of the unknown realms within.
might as well take your car dude…
All my Art anyway.
It had no use.
It was of NO use.
My faith in my ability to communicate with anyone was tainted.
Everyone was a hopeless case and cynical and nothing good would ever happen.
I mean life goes on but there would be no more “real” joy…
just feigned delight and somewhat hollow gestures at happiness.
I was tired and worn through as thin as a promise.
I have lost 45 pounds since my father died.
I may look great but I feel like a waif
and I wonder,
Wandering in a forest of uncertainty
wringing my hands for I had run from his death-bed…
unable to stay till his very well deserved and blessed end.
I, like Peter, bolted and took off from the scene.
And have spent the subsequent year beating myself up soundly.
At the time, it made sense…but only for a moment
So much so that it all became too much and I fell.
And needed to land… unaided at the very bottom of the deepest well.
A source of all the ill will and nonsense that had filled my head.
A well of my own creation and despair, that had been filled with so much sorrow…
I just could not contain it.
A wellspring of confusion and sadness and fear and misgivings that was threatening to make living my life as an artist impossible.
I should have stayed!
I RAN away.
I used every ounce of reason I have but I just could NOT forgive myself…
Guilt and Color do not mix well
What were you thinking?
Why not stick it out with everyone else?
I had no defense and when I was presented with my father’s treasured Topaz Ring… I was finished.
If only you weren’t SO SELFISH!!!
was the only rational I would accept.
If only you had STAYED…
Prepare to be tormented until you can no longer fathom what a paintbrush is…
let alone how to wield one.
And so began a back-ass wards journey into the starkest reaches of my mind… searching
and seeking for
him or HIM
Either option would suffice.
The BIG cheeses of my life
or the entire Cosmos…
I just needed to be told I was okay to have bolted.
To let me off the hook I had hung myself upon.
But, to no avail.
All I uncovered were mounds and mounds of raw and unfiltered grief and sorrow… dragged along
all tattered and shred as I worked through these past 53.5 years.
It is fine it be somewhat fragmented as an artist… to be open to any and all points of view.
As a matter of fact it is actually imperative.
You must always BE Open to the muse or the “presence” as I call it
it is hell to lose your grasp on your own true core and authentic self and sense of place.
When my dad left…
I was toast!
Cue Grief Cloud… I was smothered and gone from sight.
Buried under over 30 canvases completed in under 10 months…
BY an artist who has NO FORMAL TRAINING.
I was stretched so thin…
that I snapped
And that was that.
There is no easy way to describe how ill I was except to say that I was nowhere near who I am today.
I am completely different today than I have been ever before.
I have been changed.
I did not ask for this.
It has just been a result.
A consequence and by-product of the year.
Massive Art expression lashing out at the dementia that was slowly destroying my father,
right in front of me.
And I was “powerless” to stop it.
To DO something…
I painted the dementia as it closed it’s dark tendrils round my hero’s brilliant mind.
the night he died…
Major out pouring of griefs expressed by an artist with no credentials beyond raw human suffering.
And it was as if some source our higher sense of reason said here…
I am ART and I will be your refuge.
God/ The Source/ The BIG Lebowski…
it took great
pity on me and said
“Here, settle down and paint. It will help keep the pain away, the pain at bay…”
and somehow sometime in the spring I started painting on canvas.
I am not sure why it is such a passion but the paintings I have had the honor of creating do come from both
There IS a MUSE.
Of that I have no doubt, for I am now back working and I feel the need is upon me to begin to express myself with paint and words.
A spirit that rests upon you when you are actively working at your craft…
be it painter, sculptor or stay at home mom…
we are all called to do our best.
But I wish I had hung up on this call…
So after a hellish summer I find myself finally feeling the warmth returning to my hands.
The chill coming out of my bones that death so sweetly settles there.
I was frozen in my pain.
HE IS NO MORE
YOU ARE ALONE
Oddly, the Anchorman suggested I might want to do a bit of painting.
When hell freezes over.
Oh and please delete my BLOG.
I do not intend to ever write again.
I think not was my reply.
But he knows me well.
SOOOO well… 28 years being in love and in lock step about truth and Love and all the small miracles and wonders we have shared.
He made the suggestion…
and I took the bait!
I decided to accept a small project after a lengthy pause.
I would paint a GOD Forsaken brand new high end suburban super suburb… the kind my father felt were the BE all and End all… and the kind that drives my bohemian heart to tears and rage.
We have a dear friend we visit with quite often and he lives near a brand new development, and so I was basing my work on the cold grey vast ignorance of the fools who pay .5 million for a house that ends up really looking just like a “PROJECT” dwelling
White and grey created by painstakingly adding drops of red
blue green and purple to achieve different depths of blah and dreck
I HATE when everybody thinks the same.
I always have and this painting was going be ME
flipping the BIRD at the whole idea that this is what we are meant to strive for…
It will just kill you.
Hence the black, white and gray.
Well…I may have planned for that but here is what I ended up with…
NOT exactly bleak
What a shock for me.
For in spite of my doom and gloom and my heavy broken heart.
My shattered nerves and spirit… the news was still good
As if my dad was saying…
LISA I am fine, I love you. BE happy. Go back to paint and write.
You are safe within your own life now and you DO KNOW what to do…
My father’s leaving made me feel like a child again.
A lost and abandoned child…
and that makes total sense cause he was my father after all.
HIS love is true still
But in my heart… I am beginning to journey using Grief therapy.
I have a marvelous new Therapist and she is right up my alley.
We “GET” each other
The Anchorman and I are working on promoting my work with groups about Art for Healing and Art to fight Urban Poverty.
We are looking forward to working in conjunction with Edge Gallery in 2014.
We want to help support other Indie Artists like me as we continue to lay it out there for schools and interested others.
ART MAKES CHANGE is our mantra!
Change is what we want!
I am glad to be posting again
I have been silent for too long but I had no willpower to even approach the computer let alone put together a post.
(Please excuse the length)
After the three God Forsaken Suburb paints… I started to work on and finished two more.
There is a new lightness to my work and I feel a fresh new spirit rising in me.
Every day… without fail I also sing Karaoke for 2 hours.
I am planning to create a CD in 2014 as we are using lots of cool music in our programs for 2014.
Here is a link of me singing “Peaceful Easy Feeling” by The Eagles
I put this one up for FRANK.