I am lucky enough to be auditing the same watercolor class I took as a Sophomore at IU in Fall 2014, which pretty much means that I am sitting in it for free because the professor is kind enough to let me. It's a way to not let go of what makes me feel the most alive, although thankfully I am finding that self-motivating is becoming easier when it comes to making work that fills my spirit and leaves me at peace with the world and most importantly myself.
Today I painted in the greenhouse for the second time. The first time was so satisfying as an eager 20 year old who was scared of a blank piece of paper. I am learning to identify what stands in my way and how to conquer it. This is the difference three years have made. I remember that day as if it were yesterday and this says something because I don't have the best memory for remembering days. I stayed after class for two hours and skipped my next class because I just could not give up painting. That was one of the many times the universe showed me the way to what heals me. I'm 23 now and I've grown. I realize I identify with the cacti because they don't demand too much from the earth. They stand strong and hold on to what they are given. I am a healing cactus who is standing tall despite an unconventional upbringing. The colors in the desert room are magnificent and simplified and earthy and warm. I have yet to make it to the jungle to paint but I find that the floors are always wet. Also, the desert smells better, which has me wondering when I will get to go out West and see the actual thing for myself.
While I was painting an older man walked in with a young lady and I overheard him telling her that cacti are native to the Americas and until we started planting them they could not be found anywhere else. He also said that if you rip off a needle and milk comes out, the species is not a true cactus. Cacti contain reservoirs of water; I am a water sign. Just another discovery about why I was glued to that room when I first encountered it.
Sadly I was only about an hour in when I was kindly told to leave, and that it was closing time. My heart aches to get back in there as often as possible while I still have access to such a variety of gorgeous subjects who sit very still while I paint. Getting told to leave in the middle of a rather exciting painting threw me into a rainbow of emotions ending with the most incredible and exciting idea: @priscillapaints on Instagram.
Starting today, October 4th, 2016, I will paint every single day. I will paint no matter how tired, no matter what time, no matter what subject. I will document these paintings and I will hopefully, by the end, have shed away my skin of fear of not being good enough at doing what makes me feel good. This is a personal challenge, a project, an experiment, an adventure.
@priscillapaints @priscillapaints @priscillapaints
This idea was partly inspired by a series of conversations with the wonderful members of the Bloomington Watercolor Society, a group of predominantly senior and experienced artists that I am lucky to have recently joined, and partly by @havecompany / @personalpractice on Instagram. A lovely lady dances for a year and her life changes. I paint and I guess I will find out what happens. Check her out if you don't already: @personalpractice
In other news, I will be in New York City January 3rd-8th! Words can not describe how thankful I am to have a sweet lover who is making my dream of taking a bite out of the Big Apple come true. I am grateful. I am hopeful. I am healing.
The painting from my first experience in the IU Jordan Hall Greenhouse in 2014
What I accomplished before I was asked to leave
I call this one "Day 1 of the Rest of my Days (a study)" ... I managed to finish it in the hallway using a picture I took on my way out, which I hate. There is almost nothing exciting about painting from a flat photograph. But it's a necessary evil.
