Return to Samanda

Yesterday I arranged all my wares beside me and pulled up the images I have on my computer of Samanda. I was not in the mood to paint but I began anyway. Have to get back into a painting I stopped working on over a month ago and not feeling too pleased about it. Within ten minutes I was fully back and lost track of the time. I felt all thumbs and left handed. I played with some colours I don't normally work with (Prussian Blue, Napthol Red). I heightened the contrast and colour in her hair and lightened the upper left hand corner, reworked the drape of the cloth and fussed with her lips. It occurred to me that I am once again at a point where a change is going to happen in the way I work. These are usually subtle and not too apparent to the outside observer but to me they are major. I was just getting comfortable. Drat. This always happens. I am bored unless I am working outside that comfort zone just a bit. Now what, I ask myself. Finish this thing and move on, that's what. It is NOT going to be the painting I envisioned (they never are) and I am going to accept that and do the best I can with it. I wish her pose were different, slightly turned more with emphasis of weight on one hip, maybe a different expression on her face...maybe not looking out me with such expectancy and challenge. And once again, that small itch that sits in the back of my mind, I wonder if doing this is a worthy occupation in such "interesting times" as we live in. Should I be in Darfur attempting to save refugees from the terrible civil war? Would it help if I could raise enough money to rebuild Haiti or build new lives for those who have lost everything in Pakistan or Indonesia? Would I ever know where to start such undertakings? I mention them on my FaceBook page and sign the petitions and rail against all the injustices I hear about. Yet there is that self centered me who just would like to be able to be here painting, reading my stack of books from the library, and listening to amazing musicians on my stereo, making some Apple Crisp from the harvest I shared with the bear, being in touch with friends now and then...and without guilt because I have it so good and so many have it so bad. The years spent struggling to make a living, to find my way, make some imprint on the world, raise my child, trying to defeat the severe clinical depression in my DNA, all are beginning to feel far behind me now and I just want peace. I wish the world the same. I want everyone to find their true way, their true heart and joy. It is naive to think that will happen any time soon. A dear friend tells me that birthing art into the world and seeing the happiness that brings to others is gift enough. It would be so nice to think that was true.