Origami Salami Shattered #1: A Self-Portrait

I was so shocked to hear _____s' comment to me upon looking at todays' painting, 'Oragami Salami: A Self-Portrait', that I felt my heart bump in my chest with anger. Bump. Bump. Bump. The exact words were: "It doesn't look like your other paintings." The very first words out of the mouth of this person. Not, it's interesting, not, I don't like it, not, stupid title, what does it mean? (I will tell you later). No. Those kinds of remarks I can live with; they express someones' honest opinion and everyone is entitled to that.

This comment hurt my feelings and set me off on this rant which has been going on since I started selling my paintings and art quilts at the same time in galleries. Apparently everything you do should look something like everything else you do. I rebel against this concept because it is anti-art and anti-artist. And most certainly anti-creativity. Oh, and it hurts my feelings most of all because my paintings are like my babies. Why would you like one more than the other? Bad analogy I guess. Think of it like this instead. My paintings are like my dogs. They show me unconditional love and have taught me to be fearless when it comes to taking artistic chances. Because I love art it is all good.

We are sensitive little beasties and growing up my mother yelled at me all the time for being so sensitive... I wonder if she saw the irony? Or is it just me? It seems I analyze and hold onto each remembered hurt like a treasured jewel, and wonder if I shall be buried in a casket overflowing with so much angst there will be no room for my body.

I offer you something like nothing else I ever was able to paint before. I have wished to because I love decorative papers, and Origami paper is my favorite among them. I was exploring the program which I use for digital painting. The maual alone has 461 pages, and I have read 16 of them. And painted about 90 or so pictures. It takes up so much time to read that bloody manual, but oh there are secrets in there I really want to know.

Anyway, for no particular reason, I started playing with the icons, and after mixing up the possibilities I came up with "Origami Salami: A Self-Portrait" several hours later. It was one of those pieces which was so tedious to paint that I sort of fell into a trance of peacefulness and stopped worrying for the first time all week, crossed with a undercurrent of buzzing excitement that I had stumbled upon a brand new way of painting with my software. Yippee. Creative minds like to discover things, and have fun.

Does 'Origami Salami' look anything like, say, "Happy Birthday Dear Rebecca..."? Should it have to? Should I have to sit down to work, and think about what my finished piece must look like before I even begin ? Because I never do work like that. It's a big mystery to me, and seeing how it comes out is part of my fun. It's called a Self-Portrait, as have all my paintings in the last five months, because they are all about the huge upheaval going on around me, and that has shattered my life. Origami Salami really looks shattered to me, and thus, another self-portrait. I painted each of those cherry blossom flowers and it took forever it seemed, but finished the last one feeling centered and calm.

There is one of the ironies of art - it interacts with your state of mind while you create. I think it might be called endorphins, or something, or just the pressure is off, because all my attention gets sucked into the picture and out of the real world. For this reason, I feel very lucky to be able to do this. It isn't easy, but I practice my art every single day, and have done this almost every day that I can remember of my life. Doodles in the beginning, watching my mother, the worlds' greatest doodler. As I recall, my brother Lou is quite the doodler too, or was. Is doodling around a gene, or a curse? I think really it is a simple pleasure that we make both too little and too much of.

Hey if anyone ever reads this thing, please leave me a comment now and then and tell me if you like the paintings, or if you were here! I never know and feel lonely, like I am howling in the wind up on my blog. I do it for me, but want to know if you're out there anyway... or if you hate the paintings and like the musings. Or hate them both. Neither way do you get me to close up shop, it's too much fun and it is free. Plus it gives me a strong reason to keep painting new pieces for a show I hope to hang this coming summer or fall.