Can you see a face?

It’s time for my very own Art and Soulstice.

What does that mean?

It means

carving out a mini creative retreat i.e. some Me Time.

It means gracefully saying no to everything and everyone outside my mini creative retreat, even if I feel guilty.

It means tuning in to whatever solstice means to me. I reflect on the balance of day and night, dark and light in my life. 

Right here, right now, it is just after winter solstice, where the days are short and the nights long.

What’s next? Tuning in to whatever art process or art materials call in the moment, or feel most nourishing or easy.

I’m ready to make my Art and Soulstice picture.

I leaf through a folder of paintage papers. I select gold, black and purple pre-painted pages. I choose a pre-scribbled background that didn’t know it was a background until this moment.

(You never know what might be used for what. You simply file your stuff under the ‘Artist’s Right to Hoard’ Act of 1900.

Invented by me in 2017)

I flip through a magazine. Words, textures, images leap out.

Play, play, play with the materials at hand.

I arrange and rearrange.

The paintage takes shape. I notice a bird and a moon. I am reminded of Night Flying Work.

I wrestle with the amount of darkness in the picture. I go looking for the word ‘sweet’ to balance out ‘bitter’. I do not find it. I find ‘honey’, but it doesn’t quite fit.

I strive, strive, strive, then finally let go.

It’s OK to not have sweetness. 

The rejected collage fragments turn themselves into an extra picture.

I write on the back of Resurgence:

The inward, waiting time is nearly over. She can then fly forwards with the energy of resurgence.

Lament, loss, looking back to the bitter shadows is all part of it.

I scribble freely with a fine gold glitter metallic pen. A layer of lacey net links everything in this world. It’s hard to see, but it’s there.
Depends on the lighting and the angle.

I gaze softly at the image. Oh wow. There’s a face.

Can you see a face?

Bird wings form the eyes. It’s the Woman in the Moon, I reckon.

Should I draw her forth?