Starving Artist Ink.

I've been using my journals as mixed media, a place to write-a place to paste, and a place to draw and paint.

I have a love for sketchbooks, for blank paper, for a white canvas-and then it intimidates me… Where to start? What if I mess up? I get so caught up in trying to create a masterpiece, something worthy-a picture, rather than a painting. Having the lines already there on the paper, the grids, the whatever-just feels safer. Like I have no one to impress, not trying. I can easily tear it out and throw it away.

e.darcy

I counted my change and took a walk in the rain. The last canvas left, cheap-flimsy..but a canvas no less. It's white-and sits staring at me.. beckoning me to add colour, to push the paint, to express emotion rather than picture… to create. to let go. to inspire. I have great things in mind for this whiteness… I'm trying not to expect too much, to relax, be easy, let it go…

la la la.

Her work inspires me…

Her songs move me…

Her art feeds my soul.