Me and My Muses

I’m totally exhausted after finishing a new wild flower meadow painting – a big canvas this time. I adore painting flowers - it’s just joyous – but with a multi-layered painting it takes my all – mind, body (it’s actually quite physical moving around a large canvas) and soul too for my heart and spirit are always there.

But I have huge support – I often feel Monet is with me – peering over my shoulder, sometimes advising, always cheering me on because he loved the flowers too, so much. And if Picasso’s in a good mood he may here too – he chuckles because he knows I’m aware that I’ve got some to go if I’m to get anyway near his lifetime’s output of around 80,000 artworks!! “Quite honestly,” he says, in Franglais, “you haven’t a hope of course – you started too late. You should have been out there drawing pigeons like me when you were a child. Keep trying though. Practise, practise, practise – it’s in your blood.”

Sometimes, if I’m being precious and uptight and trying too hard to control the paint and the painting, Jackson Pollock will step into the room and say “For goodness’ sake” – well actually he’s not that polite – “stop being so xxxxxxx uptight. Let go. Let the paint do exactly what it wants. Do exactly what YOU want.”

Sometimes it’s one or other of them, sometimes all three – but always when I become aware of them – let them in – the magic begins to happen. I let go, let love, let flow.

Sometimes even then I’ll succeed in messing up the painting and have to start over, probably another day if the paints thick and still wet.

But sometimes – thank goodness often actually – despite my ineptitude – painting takes shape and I’m dancing with pleasure and thankfulness that it’s made my spirits dance and maybe – just maybe – it will resonate with someone who sees it and whose spirit dances too.

That’s what happened this afternoon so I’m tired but happy.

I was going to take a leaf from Picasso’s work ethic and practise drawing a coal tit that’s on the bird feeder (no pigeons here for some reason). Let’s see if the hot chocolate I’m drinking and then the early evening routine of feeding the ponies and walking and Frisbeeing with the dog – and watching the sun go down as the rain has stopped now – will revitalise me enough to settle down with pencil and paper. (Sorry Jackson – but it’s satisfying to draw sometimes and while I love free-flow abstracts and impressions, I can’t help but think that Picasso’s right and it’s good for me to practise sometimes!) If not and I’m still whacked out, I’ll go with Monet and Jackson and play with colour for colour’s sake.

It feels great to work – but we all need to play too, don’t we?

I hope you have today – or will this evening or tomorrow . . .

With love and light, Jenny

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