As I've stated many times in my posts, blogs and social media platforms, art saved me from myself.
The ability to paint your feelings and bare your soul can be a difficult process, but oh so rewarding. The ability to be vulnerable and raw with my artwork let's me grow and heal.
Growth is a part of my healing process that transforms my imagination as well as my reality.
Changing perspective and viewing my life through a creative lens allows more insight and peace than anything I've ever done.
Placing that paint stained brush in my hand, applying paint onto a blank surface is so freeing. I get out of my own head and focus on the canvas. The paints seem to move in a rhythmic dance of color and a creative collaboration ensues and the paint melts into the canvas like butter on a hot roll. Drips and puddles appear and I rub the paint with my fingers becoming totally immersed in the painting process. Feeling the paint on my fingertips, no thoughts enter my mind as I meditate on the paint. The colors spark alive and even seem to undulate on the canvas. A picture slowly begins to emerge and I relish the moment.
I've completed my painting. I'm covered in drips and smudges. Paint seeps from my fingernails and my smock is delightfully splattered from my latest therapy session. The anxiety quelled and just the art remains.
What a magical beautiful transformation was had today. I painted and another wound of my soul healed.
I'm at at peace.