Lately I find myself very easily distracted by all kind of thoughts, smartphoneshit and whatever comes around. What I miss because of that is time to create deeply from the core. I miss ‘listening to the Muze’. The Muze, at least my muze, is a voice inside of me that wispers her instructions very softly. So I have to be quit and concentrated to be able to hear her when she says for example: ‘take the red, put a line there, now work on big paper.’
Making art becomes much more easy with her by my side. Much more fun also, because her ideas and suggestions are usually different than my ‘own’ thoughts around art. And they are better also, so I have learned.
This morning I managed to get up a little bit earlier, put out my phone and just went for the paper and paint. And then, after a while I could hear my Muze again. ‘Princess Carmine” above was created under her guidance. Thank you!
It is springtime
Tall John is cleaning his house
Whistling a tune
He throws out all his winterstuff
Preparing for summer
The rain is gone! Oh, there it is again… It must be springtime in Holland.
this image is available as a signed artprint here
A little bird for a sunny Sunday. This bird is a detail from a painting I am working on for some time now. Every time I look at the painting my eye catches the bird first. So today I’ll let him take a look at the world.
just thinking: aren’t we all somewhere deep inside wishing we could be that dancing happy child again?
A couple of days ago I was making this girl out of pieces of paper, glue and other stuff. Suddenly I realized that she looked a bit like me when I was around thirteen years old. I had a yellow T-shirt with a big red apple on it. I loved the t-shirt a lot and wore it almost everyday for one long summer. I washed it each night to be able to put it on again the next morning.
The skirt? I never wore one. I was always wearing jeans to be able to run around. The boots? Well, I think I would have loved to have them, but I did not.
On my wrist you see a watch that I had turned to the inside of my arm. In that time in my group it meant that I was in love. I don’t remember the name of the happy boy, but it was an older guy working on his motorbike that summer. Wearing the apple t-shirt was certainly an attempt to be noticed by him. I have no idea if it worked…
‘… and don’t forget to smell the flowers along the way’
I read this once, but I don’t remember whose words they are.