Dreaming on a monsoonal day, waiting for the next storm to wash the desert clean--maybe to clear minds and hearts of frustrations and limits, I watch as clouds build, fall apart, re-form, with more clarity and strength. This reminds me of painting.
Looking at all of the wonderful artists' blogs today inspired me to begin.
Here I go.
This reclusive painter, printmaker, mailart fumbler, and occasional poet, will make a line and then try to cross it. Perhaps to make something worth remembering.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Sanity, Clarity, Painterly
Dreaming on a monsoonal day, waiting for the next storm to wash the desert clean--maybe to clear minds and hearts of frustrations and limits, I watch as clouds build, fall apart, re-form, with more clarity and strength. This reminds me of painting.
Looking at all of the wonderful artists' blogs today inspired me to begin.
Here I go.
This reclusive painter, printmaker, mailart fumbler, and occasional poet, will make a line and then try to cross it. Perhaps to make something worth remembering.
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1 comment:
I'd say, you've crossed that line, Melinda. Great job.
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