Runaway Trains and the Art of Breaking the Spell

Put the brush down and step away from the canvas..

 

I get carried away when I paint..

This is not always a good thing.

Doing detail work

with a ragged paintbrush..

stuck in the zone

and unable to stop.

I am a runaway train heading for disaster.

“Stop!” I shout, 

attempting to startle myself out of my trance.

Sometimes it works..

sometimes, it doesn’t.

The other night, in desperation

I whipped the glasses off my face and threw them at my table.

Hard to keep painting when you can’t see.

.

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Childhood Memories and the Art of Painted Playgrounds

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“The Legacy of Mildred’s Basement” by Michele Bledsoe

When I was a child

my favorite place to play was in my grandmother’s basement.

I would stay down there

for hours on end.

That was so many years ago.

All gone now,

along with my beloved grandma..

but not really.

I still go there

when I paint.

 

 

Drawing and the Art of Self-Reproach

Why are you looking at me like that?

 

I’ve been away too long..

Hopefully the next little creature I draw

won’t cringe when he sees me.

 

 

 

Unexpected Gifts and the Art of Resurrecting Bees

My husband gave me a wondrous gift the other day..

a dead carpenter bee he found in the yard.

He knows me so well.

This beautiful

black-velvety little creature

and his single coppery wing..

will live again

in my paintings.

 

 

Gerbils, Churches and the Art of Laughter

An actual conversation that took place

between my husband and I while we were painting:

Richard: “Does that look like a church?”

Michele: “It looks like a gerbil wearing a hat.”

 

 

SIX HANDS AND THE ART OF FOLLOWING YOUR BRUSH

 

When I paint
I put a blob of raw umber on my palette
and start drawing on the canvas.
I don’t stop to think about what I’m doing
I go wherever my paintbrush takes me.
Often it leads me into difficult territory..
Not away from it.
Hands are hard,
yet the creature that ended up on my canvas
has six of them.
So I struggle.
I fight.
I am committed to the end.
Dedicated to the direction of my gift
and the heart that guides me..
I will never give up.
Don’t avoid the hard stuff.
That’s how you grow.

Excerpt from Painting, Passion and the Art of Life by Michele Bledsoe

PENCIL DRAWINGS AND THE ART OF PERSONAL MAIL (PART 2)

 

Another piece of illustrated personal mail

I sent to Richard while we were dating.

It has been a long time

since I’ve seen these drawings..

I was pleasantly surprised

to find my dog’s missing leg

under the sea

with the fish sticks

and goldfish crackers.

 

The Human Brain and the Art of Being Speechless

The part of the brain that controls our feelings

has no capacity for language..

Perhaps this is where art comes from;

I can’t tell you what I find there..

I have to show you.

 

ATROPHY, PAINTING AND THE ART OF BEING UNLEASHED

I didn’t paint much

while I was working on my book.

But now..

I am unleashed.

I painted and painted

and painted.

 

That night..

my hand hurt like crazy.

Muscles aching from disuse;

I smiled to myself

in the dark.

 

All I could think about

was more painting.

 

 

 

 

Enthusiasm and the Art of Losing Your Mind

Work in progress, by Michele Bledsoe

 

It is rare when I introduce something new

to my beloved palette of colors…

That is an understatement.

 

But when I returned to my easel

after finally finishing my new book..

it appears that I have wondrously

and joyfully

lost my mind.

 

Without hesitation

I started gathering strange tubes of paint

one after another..

 

And as I fearlessly applied these alien pigments

to my work in progress,

I understood the true meaning of enthusiasm:

To be possessed by God.

 

Cerulean Blue, Sap Green, Yellow Oxide… I had to write them down so I wouldn’t forget.