Tuesday, January 3, 2012

In the studio 2012 / Not alone / Welcoming the inner demons with love this time

In August of 2006, I vowed to go back to the studio, sixteen (!) years after having lost nearly all creative momentum in the wake of the First Gulf War in 1990 and Richard's descent into the later stages of alcoholism. The earliest manifestation of the above scratchboard drawing was the result. A year later in August of 2007, I brought that scratchboard out, made a few more marks on it and dated it. In 2008, four months after Richard died, I brought it out, made a few more marks and dated it again and wrote, "This isn't working, is it?"

A few weeks ago, I came across the scratchboard again and scanned it with my new Canon printer/scanner, bought with the thought that it is time to pick up where I left off in the series of black and white drawings that ended a few months before Richard's death, with this moonlit image of Scudder Pond:

Today I have my first cold in years, along with a renewed desire to get back to work in the studio again in whatever form that takes.

It is just occurring to me that since December of 2006, this blog has been my studio. I have been working creatively and steadily, although not in the form I envisioned in August of 2006.

Interesting that as I was re-watching "Vietnam, Long Time Coming" yesterday, someone from Ho Chi Minh City visited my blog, and that yesterday I had about twice as many visitors to my blog.

Time heals, after all--although the clock that marks that kind of time has no hands.
(Suze Rotolo, from A Freewheelin' Time: A Memoir of Greenwich Village in the Sixties):

One of the great features of studio life is the capacity for renewal. Daily love manifests itself and is a fairly reliable prod. Some projects can be measured in no time at all. Sometimes three or four projects can be performed and completed in a single day. Other projects progress over days or weeks, dependent on the uncanny sleep-work that lies between. “Love does not just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new. (Ursula K. LeGuin):

In the arts, as in life, everything is possible provided it is based on love.”
(Marc Chagall):

Still, the joyful insists on getting a word in.
(R. L. Bourges):

A gift of love from Richard from January 2008, three months before he died, an artist to the end:


Taradharma said...

what a fabulous couple of portraits of you. There is a light in your eyes that radiates LIFE.

Ack, this New Years stuff...I am awash in memories, past promises, half-baked resolutions, confusion and weird dreams.

You post brings up a lot. Thank you for putting it out there.

bev said...

Good to hear that your creativity is stirring. The gift from Richard is so precious. I so agree that our blogs become our studios where we can share or be inspired by other artists and seekers. I look forward to seeing what the new year brings to your world and your creative space.

Loren said...

Glad to hear you're back in the studio, am..

Anonymous said...

scudder pond, yes. what better call for black and white. kjm