Heart Ache

On Saturday May 22, our oldest poodle, Zinca, died at home. I knew that it was coming. I stayed with her until she finally breathed her last. She would have been 13 next month.

I miss her terribly.

Losing a pet is so hard. We invest so much of ourselves in them, and they in us, that when the time comes to say goodbye, it is wrenching to the core.

In 1997 our first standard poodle, Zola, died. Some time afterwards, I painted this painting.After I finished it and looked critically at it, I realized that I had painted my feelings about losing Zola.

And now it is heartfelt again.

Heart Ache      Encaustic on Panel     24 x 24"    1997

A Painter Speaks

I am a visual person. I see what many people miss. But I miss a lot, too. Such is human nature.
To commit to writing a blog is a challenge to my expressive skills. Writing is not my preferred mode of communication. Writing is way down my list of aptitudes. Writing is not fun for me. But I concur with many other artists who maintain that blogging informs their art practice. So, I am writing.

I have always considered myself a painter, even though I occasionally stray off the page. Two dimensional painting is more familiar to me. Working in the round (three dimensionally) is like dancing with an accomplished dancer. I feel quite uncomfortable and intimidated.

Many years ago I taught art in junior and senior high school. There I learned to verbalize numerous possible solutions to the task at hand. Sometimes it took ten different ways of saying the same thing to connect with a student. The tenth variation might be the ”aha” moment for them.

May all of us, you, the reader, and I, the artist, experience many “ahas.”