Intentions

I have always loved art. I have loved looking at it, and have always wanted to create it. But I never had an inborn talent. I would sometimes see a talented artist take a pencil, and with a simple movement of the hand create a face. I always wanted to do something like that, but never could. My head was stuck in the "grass is green, rocks are black, lips are red" childhood art routine.

Then, one day, someone at work told me all I had to do was forget what I was drawing, and pay attention only to the lines and how they intersected and leaned against each other. And, slowly, I began to draw recognizable shapes.

Color was an obvious step up. I bought a box of Derwent pastels. I experimented with them. But I did so on the wrong paper and with no instruction of how to use them. We moved to Spain and I brought the box with me, on the off chance that I might find a way to learn. Then, ten years ago, I saw abstract paintings done by someone my husband and I knew. I thought to myself, "I think I can do something better than that." I found a book on pastel painting, bought the appropriate paper, and the rest is history.

I haven't done work continuously, though. Not until this summer, when I discovered Karen Margulis' blog and others, such as Gail Sibley. I have found this summer that I can do more than I though I could. Also, that practice is necessary. And now I find myself practicing every week, if not every day.

There is a satisfaction upon looking at something that you have just done, and realizing that your hands coordinated well enough with your brain to bring out something recognizable, if not perfect. 

Let art continue.