.
In painting..
what feels like a mistake
often turns out to be
divine intervention.
Trust the gift.
Divine Intervention and the Art of Making Mistakes
inspirational
Sculpey and the Art of Being Consistent
.
Sometimes, I like to make things out of Sculpey..
No surprise these little 3 dimensional doodles
look a lot like my paintings..
As my husband and I often say,
the way you do something
is the way you do everything.
Painter’s Tape and the Art of Being Frugal
My favorite old scrubby brush
was getting too splintery to hold..
so I wrapped it in painter’s tape
and went back to work.
Arizona Summer and the Art of Tiny Libraries
.
My husband Richard and I have been fortunate to have our paintings exhibited
in many wonderful galleries, museums and art-spaces
throughout the years..
but there is something really special about a library.
I was honored to have my paintings displayed
in such a beautiful environment,
surrounded by books
quiet, cool and welcoming..
like an oasis in the desert.
Drawing, Darkness and the Art of Trusting the Gift
When I draw
I don’t plan things out
beforehand..
I let the pen take me
where it wants to go.
Trust the gift..
and don’t be afraid of the dark.
UNFINISHED DRAWINGS AND THE ART OF WAITING
My sketchbooks are filled
with unfinished drawings.
I return to them
often..
and pick up exactly where I left off.
They wait.
Timelessness and the Art of Painting Slow
.
I am a slow painter.
Lovingly
working with my tiny brushes
for hours
or months
or even years
on a single painting.
Time does not exist in the place
where art comes from..
only bliss
and God.
.
.
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If you would like to help support this blog, and brighten my day – please buy my book. Thank you!
Runaway Trains and the Art of Breaking the Spell
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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If you would like to help support this blog, and brighten my day – please buy a book. Thank you!
Childhood Memories and the Art of Painted Playgrounds
“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.
