We see the color red in the fall and the effect is of fall leaves or, in our case here in “fire country”, flames. But it’s December now and we are drenched from the atmospheric river and open door to storms from the ocean, and now red reminds us of. . .Santa!
I was thinking of the tree of life here, and later the words Christmas tree popped up unbidden. Recently I was giving a private lesson about ways to work with crinkled Masa paper. I painted on a sheet of water-soaked Masa paper which had been crinkled. And then made collage papers using the same method, which I then used on the first piece after mounting it on watercolor paper.
The writing is a bit of fun. Take me seriously, but not too much!
Flame outside, flame inside, each making space for the other.
This world is made of positive and negative holding hands,
sometimes in secret cahoots.
Both want to be noticed,
forever in need of each other.
The painting wants to be noticed.
Every part wanting to tell her story.
Yet the artist can only think of how she has
yet again failed to make a masterpiece.
How can she be so shallow, when she promised herself
to be free, leaving behind judgments.
“But I wanted to scribble somewhere!” she whines,
ungrateful wretch that she is.