My dearest friends are poets, writers, story-tellers: through photography and books and recordings of their sweet voices, they bring such creative joy into the world. But I have never thought of myself as such. I am a dabbler in words, I think – and very happy with this.
And so I had absolutely no expectations when I found myself on a sunny hillside in Abruzzo, dancing with my eyes closed to Florence and the Machine while my hands applied blue paint to a large blank canvass.
I learnt about warm and cool colours, and the shapes different sized foam brushes will make. We painted on each others canvasses and then we swapped. There was no attachment to any of it. It was so playful, so much fun. I had no idea what I was doing, if it was any good, if that even mattered. I tried not to look at everyone else’s creations lest I start thinking and comparing. I just let go. What was the worst that could happen?
On the afternoon of the second day I started to get excited about purple. Its a hard colour to mix but I loved the richness of it, and then I got turned on to the bright red, a bit of white and orange came through, and then yellow. And just how fucking satisfying is it to twirl a brush and make the absolute opposite of straight lines? Answer: VERY. So that’s what I did for hours, graduating the colour, twirling my brush, feeling my six year old self ’SQUEEEE!’ with glee at the awesome. There was no way to fail. If I didn’t like something I just painted over it. I just went with what felt joyful and satisfying and concentrated on that.
There’s probably a metaphor for life in there somewhere.
I am so grateful to the gentle nudges of encouragement from Flora: artiste, yogi and all round fabulous soul, who let me hang out with little me and create something with pure joy. I will be framing my creation and hanging it above my desk to bring the magic of all the Italyness to rainy grey Londontown.
‘Invite imperfection. Know that the missteps and mistakes will become amusing anecdotes eventually and perhaps even teach you something further down the line or sooner, and that the places of wrongness and upset ultimately become the underpinnings of transformation’ ~ Maya Stein
Wow!
I LOVE your painting
And LOVE the squeeee of it
I share your squeeeeee from painting
And now I’m adding a squeeee at seeing your squeee at painting
best. comment. ever.
we hold hands and skip round and round in circles now squeeing wildly now don’t we
…don’t we?
sorry it’s no good, I can’t contain myself….squeeeeeee
Pure magic…after going to Squam this past September, I so understand….
So beautiful. Just like you xx
it’s so lovely to hear your tale of magic in the italian countryside. your painting is amazing. squeeeee!!
Oh yay!! xx
I saw that photo (that you link to on flickr) when Elizabeth blogged and I LOVE IT! Your painting is DIVINE (as are you).
Love your painting.
Love your account of it.
*Love* the picture of you with it – and the amazing view.
And I love “underpinnings of transformation” no matter how hideous they may be in the moment.
mel.x
the ‘underpinnings of transformation’ have always been so hideous for me too – lately it all seems a little softer, with a welcome bit of magic sprinkled in…
LOVE your painting … the colours … several kinds of awesome. I’ve just finished reading a blog post about incorporating mistakes into one’s painting … I firmly believe that mistakes and missteps aren’t that at all, but merely opportunities to learn and transform …
i feel exactly the same x
I enjoy your blog. Found it through sus and meghan genge’s sites. I think you might enjoy my blog. It is about telling stories through photos and words.