Day 31. Creativity

These are actually just little pieces of my day 31 painting which I have been working on for several days now. The whole thing is four feet tall by four feet wide– when I stand behind it, just my head and shoulders poke out the top. 

I’m not posting the entire piece because I’m taking some cues from my Day 11 painting and letting it simmer. There may still be a few strokes left to make, and I don’t want to rush it as I have done many a scrambled eggs by turning the heat too high in order to get it done faster. 

I will share with you the companion poem, also still a work in progress, and one I want to dedicate to my “31 friends”– the beloved community who has taken on this daily practice with me. Their work, creativity, encouragement, and dedication to their own heart songs has made this experience one I want to keep having every year. 

Today’s painting will be revealed at the gallery exhibition of all my paintings this month (including the 5 on paper that are not yet on the site) on February 15th from 5-8pm. The event will also have a guest display of other artists’ work who have participated in the 31 in 31. We will have musical performances and poetry readings from 31 in 31 members as well as refreshments and some pretty special giveaways. I hope you can make it! 

Lastly, thank you so very much for following along all month, for commenting, purchasing, or sharing with your friends. All month, I’ve imagined sitting down with my younger, college self who was just starting to explore art and saying to her: When you grow up, you’re going to be an artist. And every time, she is just blown away. Thank you for helping me do what I love most to do. 

Hope Unleashed is Creativity 

“The most regretful people on earth are those who felt their own creative power restive and uprising and gave it neither power nor time”

–Mary Oliver

In my art class we drew the anatomy of 

the skeleton we borrowed from science

and promptly named Lucy

Her ribs, to me, looked so much like a bird cage

I imagined our little feathered hopes perched inside

behind the protection of those curved bones

where they could safely sing that old, wordless tune

Here’s what I’ve learned, mostly from art class:

When a heart song becomes restive and uprising

Feed the bird crumbs of both time and power,

and when it strengthens, grows to

the wail of a captive 

thank your bones for protecting what was once so fragile,

then open the little cage door and

let it go