Paradise does not exist in some vague, distant place.
We discover contentment by being present in the here and now and making something beautiful from the real stuff of life.
Today, all I want to be is an artist—an oil painter and collage artist. Yes, art has sufficiently seduced me. Will I ever leave words? No! Words have connected me with my soul, my Creator, and others. Like tendrils of a crawling vine, words take my mind up and over the wall of my present thinking.
Yet my love affair with art is different. Art comes to me as an alluring lover—lips dripping with “other world” honey.
“Kiss me.” Art whispers.
And when I pick up a brush and dab the end into paint, I connect and taste this unearthly pleasure I never before knew existed. So to answer my lover’s call, I’ve started a new oil painting entitled, “Bird of Paradise.” Although this photo is only the first layer from the first painting session, there’s something intriguing about its imperfection.
I think this is because, for me, art is about facing my imperfections and embracing my process, and finding happiness in the here and now. I’ve crafted a poem for the place in between the young woman and the object of her intrigue, a Bird of Paradise bloom. My hope is to communicate a concept:
Paradise does not exist in some vague, distant place. We discover contentment by being present in the here and now—tackling the real stuff of life.