love

Old Paintings and the Wondrous Elasticity of Time

Work in progress by Michele Bledsoe

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It has been many years since I’ve worked on this painting.

Maybe even a decade.

Yet, here at my easel..

it could have been yesterday.

I remember everything.

I dive in without hesitation..

effortlessly matching the subtle shades

of complex color

perfectly.

Seems I have never left you.

Trust the gift.

Clean Teeth and the Art of Visiting Trees

I arrived early for my teeth-cleaning appointment

to visit my favorite seedpod tree.

I was disappointed to see it had been trimmed recently..

with all its magnificent treasures far out of reach.

Nevertheless, I was determined.

Finding a long, sturdy stick

I jumped up..

whacking at the branches above my head

until I was able to finally knock one loose.

You’ll find a lot of these seedpods

in my paintings..

It’s where I keep all the things I love.

Little Canvases and the Wondrous Experience of Painting Small

Work in progress by Michele Bledsoe

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I love painting small.

It is an remarkable experience..

wondrous and intimate.

Leaning in close

with tiny brushes..

I can unleash my soul

onto a canvas

that can fit

in the palm of my hand.

Old Paintbrushes and the Art of Splinters

A Splintery Work in Progress by Michele Bledsoe

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I had been painting for quite a while

before I reluctantly acknowledged

the sharp, needle-like pain

at the base of my thumb.

I poked at it a couple of times..

Yup. It hurt..

and I started painting again.

Eventually, I realized it was a splinter

from one of my favorite

worn-out old paintbrushes.

After my husband removed it..

I picked up my splintery brush

and got back to work.

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I don’t fundraise off my blog, use Patreon or ask for donations. If you would like to help support The Secret Kingdom, and brighten my day – please buy a book.

Thank you!

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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If you would like to help support this blog, and brighten my day – please buy a book. Thank you!