At the moment, the days are growing ever shorter. The earth is folding up her leaves, to let the wind pack them away for the winter.
I’m spending my days packing up my art for my show “Emergence” that opens next week in West Chester.
As I fold bubble wrap and moving blankets around each piece, I can’t help but think that the paintings in the show are actually all about… unfolding.
That is what I think emergence is…
It’s an unfolding of one thing into another and then unfolding again into another.
It’s the energy in the seed emerging from the unfolding flower, that finds itself unfolding roots into darkness. In time, it emerges. Unfolds tiny, green, leaves that will reach for the sun.
I let this energy run through me when I paint. Following brush strokes like the wind. Letting colors and shapes unfold on canvas until some part of the painting seems to be pulled by light out of darkness.
You too might find yourself being aware of this energy.
Especially on a day like today when you look into your life with an eye of gratitude.
As you pile sweet potatoes on your plate, you might find it easy to smile at all the blessings of people and things that unfolded in just the the right way for you. Or you might chew dry turkey, thinking you’re stuck struggling to count blessings because they are so hard to see in the dark.
In my life.
I’ve smiled from ear to ear because I’ve felt so grateful for all the light. And I’ve stumbled around feeling blind.
Sometimes both in the same day.
This is what I know.
Every painting that I’ve ever made, that I think is really worth something, has both light and darkness.
That I’ve kept working on pieces that seem stuck. That when something eventually shifted in the painting, what emerged felt like it was unfolding… in just the right way.
That I don’t really understand how this happens.
That I’m truly grateful that being an artist lets me keep trying to.
That I’m beyond grateful that you are interested in this unfolding.
“The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude. ”- Nietzsche