So, I need art. Sometimes, when the world seems too much, art is the only cure. Yes, for my religious friends, prayer is a daily (sometimes hourly) necessity; but, when there are no words, art is where I find God.
This is not to say that my art is effortless. The energy expended includes the pain of innovation and creation. Just like birth, art requires intense labor which rarely is uncomplicated. It must be pulled and pushed; molded and pummeled into an approximation of the intended design. I like to think that the “happy accidents” which transform my paintings somewhere between conception and birth, are God’s little messages to me: the Master Artist giving me a nudge to keep me on her perfect path.
Creative inspiration is the harshest master! When she wants something brought forth into the light, she demands it be done immediately with no respect for prior commitments, unfinished projects, or even my sanity. She is flaming passion which rewards me only upon completion of her vision. I am her slave.
The result always surprises me a bit and serves to remind me that I am not alone in my endeavors. My art is a tangible expression of my intangible spirituality.