The Church of Instinct, As Above So Below and From the Old House by Michele Bledsoe
Just as the negative space
around an object
will define its shape..
You can tell a lot about a person
by what they like.
These things reveal something about us..
But art is different.
More than just a human-shaped outline
formed by the things we respond to..
When you create art
it IS you.
“Tusk” by Richard and Michele Bledsoe
Portrait of Steve Gompf by Michele Bledsoe
In 2018, the world lost a great artist
and I lost my friend.
A true creative genius..
Steve Gompf was one of the most wildly imaginative
and passionate artists I have ever known..
and he taught me the true meaning
of constructive criticism.
When we shared a gallery years ago
my work had become very gray.
Soft tones and faded colors..
I was struggling with my palette
and I had lost my way.
It was Steve who brought me back.
Wonderfully eccentric,
playful and engaging..
Steve was also as blunt as a sledgehammer.
He marched up to my work
and held an Oreo cookie against a “dark” area
in one of my paintings..
“That’s not dark!” he exclaimed,
“THIS is dark.”
I was floored.
He was absolutely right.
After this artistic epiphany
my work improved dramatically.
When Steve asked me to paint his portrait
I had no words..
but I was thrilled at the opportunity
to pour out my love and gratitude
in a way we would both understand.
The Jail Tree by Michele Bledsoe
Excruciating headache
since 2:00 am
curled up
hand clamped over my eye
to keep it from
popping out of my skull
beneath the unyielding pressure.
It went on and on
for hours and hours
coming in terrible waves..
When relief came
I was bursting with gratitude..
how wonderful it is
when pain stops.
So I ran to my easel
and painted and painted
with such great joy..
The headache did not return..
banished like a demon
in the light of God’s gift.
A work in progress by Michele Bledsoe
Life got busy.
Really busy.
It happens..
but I let it pull me from my easel
for too long.
That was a mistake.
Suffice it to say
I was no longer myself..
I had become
an unbalanced load of laundry.
So, I ran to my neglected painting
to set things right
and threw myself into it
with wild abandon
falling fearlessly
and gratefully
into the glorious embrace
of God’s gift.
When I first started painting
I had no idea what I was doing..
but that didn’t matter.
All I needed
was the unshakable
unrelenting desire
to create.
