I lost all my visual inspiration for about a month. I didn’t feel like painting or drawing and I felt like I was having an identity crisis. When I was a child I painted to pass the time and console my loneliness. I was devastatingly quiet and shy. I had problems with my hearing so I didn’t pronounce some sounds properly and most of the time I couldn’t hear what people were saying to me so I guess I didn’t say much back. In the absence of loud noise and distraction I was immersed into a visual world. I became an observer which I actually quite liked. I have memories of sitting in cars or in houses just observing whilst the people around me had these muffled conversations. I was totally in my head. So painting was my way of communicating. I guess this is why I love art therapy? Sometimes words won’t do. My childhood relationship with painting has given me this adult love/hate relationship to art. In one way it became a huge party of my identity early on. In another way making art reminds me of sad feelings like childhood loneliness and an inability to express myself and what is happening to me.

A few days ago I was walking my dog with a friend and we were discussing my loss of inspiration and I decided to not put any more pressure on myself to make art. As soon as I gave myself permission to be okay with not making art I made a painting. Weird hey? I hope you like it.

-love