a disquieting harmony
My creative output has slowed down a bit, since I took on a few new web jobs and have felt compelled to pay bills. We’ve all got a job to do, and I can at least be happy that I am my own boss and feel some creative satisfaction in creating sites for other artists. Being on a computer for extended periods of time isn’t a particularly healthy habit, though. I am continually learning to balance the scales of work time vs. my personal creative time. Like most people in similar situations, I can never say I’m completely successful at it.
When I find myself getting too hypnotized by my long stretches at the computer, I take walks to the park, shooting photos along the way of practically anything of interest. Lately, I seem to focus a lot on the textures of bromelaids and lichen…. or of the branches and roots of trees. I then go sit under a tree for a while, and contemplate various factors of my life and work. It’s easy to let the chattering mind run its course without too much notice of where my thoughts are taking me. Simply sitting in the company of large trees is a grounding experience, and brings me back to center.
I came back to my studio last night and decided to paint this bluejay on one of my current experiments. It seems to tie it together. I don’t know what I’m trying to say with it, but for me it brings up a sense of mystery. The blues of the background are serene, but the dripping red brings out a disquieting feeling. It’s not inappropriate, I suppose, considering how much of their time birds spend hunting. That’s just an afterthought, of course. I’m actually hoping that the red drips don’t remind one too much of blood. I personally think of it more as a tribute of appreciation to an element of the natural world… a part of which I can only witness, but feel a connection to. Being born with a bird’s name feels completely appropriate, given my connection to trees and flying animals.