That was then...
...and now I have the interwebs in my home space too, which is good because my studio space is uninhabited...for now. Oh all the "stuff" is still there, and heat is at a sustainable minimum ready for whenever. (And when I wander in, I DO sometimes get an urging towards the smell, feel, colours, textures and all.)
But words have overtaken images as I burrow into my day job (and so far it's a full, rewarding exploration) and it has taken me back to verbs nouns sentence structure and the arc of the story to, hopefully, connect with the voices in others' heads.
Some have said all along that writing is where I belong and have effect. Not that there's anything wrong with visual art, specifically, my own canvas, collage, atc, ab and all the other acronymics over the last half dozen years. They transported me out of another dark time and space.
But, I can once again admit...words flow easier; and wring out of me something closer to the bone, deeper into the essence of what it is to be human, and farther out to infinite possibilities of existence.
So, once again, I'm remaking myself. Fitting it should be in this frigid winter that I shed the old skin and await for what grows next.
I may return. Or not.
But words have overtaken images as I burrow into my day job (and so far it's a full, rewarding exploration) and it has taken me back to verbs nouns sentence structure and the arc of the story to, hopefully, connect with the voices in others' heads.
Some have said all along that writing is where I belong and have effect. Not that there's anything wrong with visual art, specifically, my own canvas, collage, atc, ab and all the other acronymics over the last half dozen years. They transported me out of another dark time and space.
But, I can once again admit...words flow easier; and wring out of me something closer to the bone, deeper into the essence of what it is to be human, and farther out to infinite possibilities of existence.
So, once again, I'm remaking myself. Fitting it should be in this frigid winter that I shed the old skin and await for what grows next.
I may return. Or not.