Today I woke late, from a dream of someone or some thing talking intently, almost pleadingly. But I saw the clock and the day rushed in like water, erasing every trace of where I'd been. Here, I had lists, and I was late. But not so tired. Sleep good. Brain like sleep.
I thought about your comments.
I write my thoughts about art and life here. It's not always easy to write these sorts of things, especially those things that are personal and deeply experienced. But it seems part of the process for me and I feel compelled to include this medium. You're part of that, I enjoy a sense of your presence in the studio and you've chosen to be here.
I think it helps a bit that I've already announced that I'm an idiot. It's right there in the banner, up front. That takes a little pressure off.
Some people who read this blog are more educated, more talented, more enlightened and more literate than me. I also know that sometimes my latest discovery is old news to others. I figure, if I post about an experience you've already worked out, you'll enjoy the company. Possibly I'll say something that you haven't thought of and you'll appreciate the knowledge. Possibly you'll disagree with me and you'll enjoy complaining. Everybody wins.It's not so different from hanging a new piece of art. I have no control over the viewer's experience with the art. I might be misunderstood. I might expose my deepest raw pain.
It can be risky business, putting words and art up for other humans to decipher. It can be worth the risk, because of the positive connections made. There's great comfort when human beings who are interested in similar things get together. It's as real as we make it, this medium. I know you're really not in the studio with me.
But, you really are.
We know that Poppets aren't really watching us.
But we know they really are. (yes, this is sometimes creepy)
If that means anything at all to you, stay here. You're among friends, for sure.