These are two hands, the larger one is mine and the smaller one is my granddaughter, Sarah’s. I traced our hands last summer when she was visiting and then put them in my journal with scribbled thoughts around the edges. Just trying to figure a way to place my hands somewhere that they might lead back to an artistic direction that I was headed. I know where I want to be, but getting there is stumbling over bumps and rocks and avoiding crevices.
Did you ever feel as if your particular path was one of false steps when you knew, deep down, the one you were meant to follow was clear and bright and calling you every waking minute? Yikes. It is such a bumpy road these days. I want to stay on one single path, but my calendar keeps me off course. So this has become my blog lately. I am the one trying to etch the stone deeper, entrench myself in the path of artistic balance and expression, but my life of “loves” is keeping me off course.
Sometimes I think that periods of our lives are meant to just be moments of collecting ideas and thoughts and just being. If we’re lucky, those moments turn into inspiration later. They shape what create when we get to the actual physical process. I think that it helps to have a project that doesn’t involve any thinking, just process for when life gets crazy.
I’ve always been fascinated by the contrast and similarities between hands of different ages.
Oh the old “tapioca” days!!! How I can identify! ssomeone told me, the more you feel angst, the bigger the creation. Something must be coming to the surface. Good luck and enjoy when it erupts.
It’s all about balance, isn’t it?
there have been numerous forks in my road, I would have preferred just crooked ones, not so much heartache.
its all one thing i think. and you express it well.