Just a personal note. I’m sorry to have been so quiet and absent the last few months. My husband has been working A LOT, the kids have been sick catching every single one of the available viruses, and lastly, I just felt like creating was almost pointless with the advent of AI. If someone could just speak the words, even name the style of the artist, and make something in a few minutes, what was the point? The hamster wheel of social media art life is tiring enough without competing against AI, lol.
Then my grandmother died.
And the only way I knew how to process her loss was with art.
The inspiration came from my daughter making a fairy house the day before. She decorated a shoe box with all kinds of leaves, fruit and beautiful little drawings to try to entice fairies to visit and stay for a while in a little home she decorated. Within hours of her making that fairy box, my grandmother had passed.
When I got the news the next morning, I thought of how her spirit may have visited, touching us before she went on to her forever home.
It’s funny how experiencing life, its hardest days, reminds us of how little ego and algorithms matter.
Art is important, always. Making art is essential. Thanks Grandma for reminding me.
“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)I want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)”
― E.E. Cummings