The Morning After

The Morning After

by | May 5, 2022 | artist updates

It’s quiet this morning . . . quite a difference from yesterday afternoon. This is the morning after my first Open Studio since the pandemic, and I can’t believe I took no photographs. So as I sit outside the studio, watching a blue jay perch on an empty easel and flowers bloom in the sunshine, these words will be my reminder of the joy that comes with sharing art and stories, along with the camaraderie of friends old and new.

The energy in my little studio filled with fellow artists, teachers and creatives of all kinds was simply amazing. Contact info was shared by many as we found more commonalities at a time when we see so much divisiveness in the world. Art has power, and I, for one, believe that coming together to celebrate art is coming together with hearts full of love. It’s about gratitude to have the means to create and the means to purchase. It’s about focusing on positives, like what works speak to us and what feelings are invoked while studying the colors, textures, strokes and marks. It’s about sharing. Many guests to the Open Studio brought a guest, exposing them to the new adventure of art collecting. As I said, the energy was amazing!

It is with great appreciation and lots of love that I write these words to remind me of another inspirational and joyful exchange called Open Studio. Thanks to all who followed their heart and journeyed into my world of art. No photos required. See you at the next one!
Lori

Truth And Dare

by | Mar 31, 2022 | Uncategorized

My art life has been one of solitude since the pandemic abruptly shifted so much of my perspective, interests and focus. I have stayed grounded in the white sand, aqua waters and blue skies. But this past weekend, I ventured to the quiet side of the panhandle and rediscovered the forgotten coast. Apalachicola and Mexico Beach were a wonderful diversion from the fast-paced spring break happenings around me. Time moves slower and stress melts away under the afternoon sun.

Back home, I’ve taken up walking the neighborhood everyday, listening to children’s laughter and meeting up with nearby residents managing their day-to-day operations with a little help from their friends. Between one and two miles on foot affords a new way of looking at things, too.

So back at the studio, I dug through a forgotten trove of oil paints, colors that dared me to open their tubes and experiment. These small paintings are the first of many, I hope, that serve to open new possibilities and create new adventures, escaping from the norms and daring to walk where I was scared to go before. My eyes are sensitive to bright lights and my soul too sensitive to bright colors. This is a start. I hope you continue to follow along on this wild journey with me, remembering to explore the unknown and allow yourself room to run or walk, eyes wide open, to all the new possibilities of the day.

Lori