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Time to Push?

I've really struggled to know where to go with this latest blog and I've been asking myself why?

It isn't as though I ceased creating art, it's something that fills almost every day of every why the block??

I've been considering this again today and have reflected upon the art I've been creating. What I noticed was that there were subtle signs of a stuggle, finding it harder to cope. Low mood and low energy in several of the pieces.

Covid had brough many personal difficulties to me but also a few benefits...

I'd actually enjoyed the reduced traffic, the break from the exhibiting, the increased sense of time. I've always been most comfortable and safer, when in my own company...being quite shy and lacking in confidence...not that many would realise that...

Yes, there have been stressors. My husband has been working from home since the start of the pandemic and now intends on continuing to do so for the majority of time. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't wish him out the house...after all I have my studio to work from. However, his being around did change the dynamics within the home, he'd pop up to the studio to say hello; the dogs always, ALWAYS want more attention when he's around...pestering for a run or walk.

It's taken me a long time to start to recognise a factor that interrupts my usual 'flow''s the change of routine, the loss of silence, calm and safety. The familiar had been pushed aside and I realise now how much I require stability and predictability and most definitely, space.

Now you may be reading this and that it!? Big deal. It isn't a 'big deal' in the whole scheme of things but apparently it IS a 'big deal' for my psychological and emotional equilibrium. I've been off kilter..completely and utterly without rudder or sail or paddle...however you'd like to describe it.

Then, of course I was deeply affected by the sudden, out of the blue death of one of our Dalmatians, Juno. On our 'restorative' holiday. It was on my birthday when I had to utter those dreaded words, giving the vet the consent to put one of my dearest companions to sleep...for good...for ever....

I can't even begin to describe, nor would I burden you with, how deeply distressing this has been and still is. I'd offered to make a casket for Juno's ashes, to help my husband cope with his raw emotions. Lovingly creating a textile liner and bag through blurry eyes. Into the antique box I've carefully lined with her bottom blanket and her cover over snuggle blanket, as he had requested. The little silk bag I made and filled with sand from her favourite beach that she didn't manage to see but once before she was too ill. This event has naturally created a huge impact on my art...oh yes, still creating every day, just as importantly as a whale breaches for air, I pick up a pencil or brush.

Unsurprisingly, the loss of Juno has created feelings of injustice, anger that it was far too soon, that she was too special and it was a cruel twist.

On the day we eventually returned Dalmatian and one package of ashes, I literally walked in the front door, said 'no' and exited via the back door! Then I decided to go to bed and just stay there. Fine but not a great long term plan. It's only been these last couple of days where I've found a way to push my pain, hurt, disbelief etc. etc. into my painting.

This is where I guess I'm supposed to describe how I painted my emotions blah blah. No it was the way I used the brush, palette knife, sander. I was rough, I was fast, forceful strokes... but I was also being instinctual. I wasn;t allowing time to pause, assess, decide on what or how to create the painting I had in mind. No; I just painted.