An unplanned visit to Beth Israel on Thursday left me without a finished painting to post on Friday. The honest truth.
This visit was for another problem, which my neurologist did not connect to having Parkinsons, but questioned whether it was neurological. So, of course, I could not help but visit the worst place scenario first, then spend the rest of my waiting hours trying to convince myself otherwise. Does this sound familiar to any of you?
It is difficult to create when our minds are flooded with worry!
I've shared incomplete paintings and sketch books with you,
but the landscape I began was so disconnected from my heart,
it looked like someone else had come to the studio for a few days!
What do I do when the concentration is lost?
Paint still lives or self portraits.
Then I get back to the basics--look, see, paint.
I grabbed a mirror and began. While I was painting, Ilka called, and I explained my frustration and said I would send her the horrible self-portrait I was working on. A funny thing was happening-- the painting was taking on the way I felt about my self right then. Ilka's response, "Wow that is very creepy but still kinda creepily cool".
The problem was not neurological. Once again, the act of painting helped tremendously. I merged the painting with a photo and had a grand time experimenting.
You got the honest truth this week and you will next week--just a bit more beautiful perhaps.
This visit was for another problem, which my neurologist did not connect to having Parkinsons, but questioned whether it was neurological. So, of course, I could not help but visit the worst place scenario first, then spend the rest of my waiting hours trying to convince myself otherwise. Does this sound familiar to any of you?
It is difficult to create when our minds are flooded with worry!
I've shared incomplete paintings and sketch books with you,
but the landscape I began was so disconnected from my heart,
it looked like someone else had come to the studio for a few days!
What do I do when the concentration is lost?
Paint still lives or self portraits.
Then I get back to the basics--look, see, paint.
I grabbed a mirror and began. While I was painting, Ilka called, and I explained my frustration and said I would send her the horrible self-portrait I was working on. A funny thing was happening-- the painting was taking on the way I felt about my self right then. Ilka's response, "Wow that is very creepy but still kinda creepily cool".
The problem was not neurological. Once again, the act of painting helped tremendously. I merged the painting with a photo and had a grand time experimenting.
You got the honest truth this week and you will next week--just a bit more beautiful perhaps.
