There is a rhythm in process.
Not knowing what is happening sometimes looms larger into view when the inner current pulls the creative impulse deep below the surface, out of sight.
The last two paintings were like that, unfamiliar enough to open me to the doubting mind. Even when familiar imagery of embryonic spheres appeared, I did not feel connected as I have in the past. Something new is taking form and I can't see it yet.
I'm listening to the body's anxious responses to the unknown. Taking care not to abandon ship nor to retreat to the back of the boat.
And then the hands began to appear again.
Red and blue, holding and reaching out.
A lightening heralded some breathing room.
The process continues to unfold.
