thoughts

Shared Studios and the Art of Talking to Yourself

“And Then You Blink” by Michele Bledsoe

My husband and I paint back to back in our home studio.

We listen to music, we talk to each other..

and we talk to ourselves.

“Why are you still using this brush?” I scold myself in disbelief.

“#$%*@! Yes, yes… oompa loompa!” Richard shouts enthusiastically.

It is a strange disjointed conversation..

punctuated by wordless grunts

sentence fragments

and a variety of hoots

howls and whistles.

 

We are still in the same room

but we are gone.

Lost in our own worlds

just as it should be.

 

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Migraines and the Art of Pain

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.

 

 

Neglected Paintings and the Art of Doing Laundry

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.

 

 

Painting and the Art of Not Having a Clue

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.

 

Secret Galleries and the Art of Home Repairs

.
We had an art show a few weeks ago
with a single attendee..
the handyman who came to repair our wall.
.
He examined the paintings that surrounded him
while he worked..
and as the plaster dried
he walked around
staring at all the art.
.
He spoke to us about our paintings
and shared stories of his own collection of art..
his father’s landscape paintings
which he treasured.
.
As he was leaving
he thanked us for the experience
and his unexpected trip
into an art exhibit.
.
This is art the way it is meant to be
not cloistered away in a sterile, white-walled gallery
but as a part of everyday life..
living in our homes
like family.
.

Dollhouse Paintings and the Art of Giving Your All

My sister asked me to make a painting

to hang in her dollhouse.

So I did.

With squinting eyes,

I leaned in close

and poured my soul onto that tiny canvas.

Is it a waste of time to put so much of myself

into a 2″ x 2″ square?

No.

Art is all or nothing.

Every time.

Painting and the Art of Conversation

“Like Clockwork” by Michele Bledsoe

 

When I paint

I don’t make preliminary sketches

I don’t plan anything out beforehand..

I just sit at my easel

and dream.

It is a spontaneous conversation..

an intimate, spiritual exchange

between myself and God.