collage, acrylic, skins on w/c paper

Illusio, the illusion of a meaning, a reason to be, a passion to do. The music in the wind in the sails blown by the breath of the mystic, who seems to know what route to take, what color to paint, what song to sing or dance to. 

Life if like that, all smoke and mirrors and Voila! There it is, as plain as the nose on your face, and then Voila! It is gone.  You’re bereft and wandering around, mistaking your thoughts for something real and not even noticing the plant growing up through the pavement, the child hiding behind your shoulder seeking protection.  Was she there all along, wondering where you might take her next?

We’re playing with acrylic “skins” in the Muse Groups this weekend.  Can you see them catch the shine in this piece?

The word “illusio” comes of course from Latin, but the concept is a sociological one which refers to the investment people make in the activities that give meaning to their lives – from rock climbing to stamp collecting to growing orchids. It’s my new favorite word.

We need our “illusio” to thrive. All the articles on living a long life say so. The paradox is that as we get caught up in our “illusio” we forget that it is transitory, illusory. So is it possible to live with passion while simultaneously being OK with the knowledge that your enjoyment is transitory?


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