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Weddings are about
Something that cannot be named
Brushstrokes in my dreams
If you’re following along, you know I had a busy weekend– wedding paintings Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. I woke up this morning feeling lots of things– accomplished, still tired. I’ve got images of second line brass bands and drunk uncle dance moves frolicking around my mind– my trusty palette knife continually swipes deep blue to create a night sky in my imagination, and I’ve had strange paint-like dreams for days.
Not sure what any of that has to do with today’s hummingbird painting, except that I’m realizing (accepting maybe?) that the work is never done. But the pauses– the moments when the wings stop flapping 70 beats per second, there’s magic in that. I’m trying to lean into the pauses, enjoy them, before rushing off to my next…flower.
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