Reflect on who you are at a particular point in time
I live with my parents. I make art. I grieve the person that I used to be. Standing makes me queasy and I take frequent breaks. I spend my time painting and reading. I cut my hair short. I paint my room. I look through old journals and remember the person I used to be. I let myself fall, and by that, I mean that I let myself be held. My body confines me, and in that confinement, I find a strange freedom from society. Looks of concern instead of questions about careers. Finally, it is socially acceptable to rest. But the thing is that I don't want to rest. But I don't have a choice. My body chooses for me on matters of what to do with my life. And so I paint. I read. I spend time with myself, and I find a closeness with myself even as I lose the parts of me that I've centered my life around. I remember how much I love the smell of oil paint. And a good book. I cherish the love in my life. I live as if life could end at any second. I find strange contentment there. I create like there's no tomorrow.
Alla Prima with Two Mirrors
Oil paint on canvas
12" x 16"
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