purging

i feel so inadequate as an artist, i feel i'm just a dabbler. 

but then, if only for a few instances, maybe a day, it surprises me sometimes to see how some of my work just happens almost by magic, guided by some inexplicable force and i feel ok about it.

like this random twist on the use of teabags. this one ripped when i was opening it and i visualized the overalls first, then the dress. i had to use them.

i got hooked on the teabag girls challenge

actually i'm pretty proud of them considering how small they are

but then again, alot of my work is small

 i'm slowly discovering watercolors

i've been evaluating my creative journey. why did i turn to art all of a sudden? i was always the writer in the family, my letters are legendary as was my penmanship. why do i keep painting and sewing? 

i think it all began with my exposure to art in england. mummy and daddy would take us to all the museums, all the churches and monuments, plays and puppet shows. i am forever grateful. 

but when did it stir in me?

i think it all began with teesha moore and the altered art movement and arte-e-zine, a website in england. i literally went nuts realizing there was a huge group of outsider artists like me. 

and so it began. 

it's been about ten years now. 

but now i stop and evaluate. what have i made of substance? my portfolio, a sloppy cardboard case, is filled with rejects. the few i like are framed, others have been sold, many given away. fluckr seems to award me with explore precisely with my more unique work.

my daughter insists i not throw away anything, but i must. 

there are so many i am not happy with, many even hurt to see. 

how can i even call myself an artist? 

one of my favorite things is to paint on          shipping tags

i think i will just continue doing it for fun.

most of the things i make are so silly actually.

except for a few i'm truly proud of, such as this book 

and these peg dolls

so it's sorting time

throwing away time

starting fresh time

catharsis time

re-evaluating time

if only i could stick to one thing

but i am voracious to the point of gluttony when it comes to art expressions.

i love to sew, can't give that up

i love portaiture, can't give that up,

love sketching, can't give that up either

maybe i shouldn't be so self critical

after all, it's not fame i'm after

it's not the monetary reward either (i pretty much give my art away)

it's for the outlet

of seeing beautiful things take on my meaning

maybe, i shouldn't look at other people's work on pinterest or tumblr or instagram so i don't get distracted. but how can i help that? sometimes just a detail will spark a thought.

maybe i should go back and re visit my work and finish some set aside work to see if it acquires new meaning. 

maybe i should paint big

maybe i should quit

maybe i should try something new?

i took both quotes pasted here from

my favorite blog and artist lynne hoppe.

whenever i feel a little out of sorts it is her blog that i turn to.

and for sewing spirit cloth ofcourse

i've been watching the bbc production of war & peace. i love tolstoy.

True life is lived when tiny changes occur. Leo Tolstoy

the last time i purged my art i regretted throwing away just one painting, my balalaika blues one. i need to re imagine it, especially now that i saw natasha dance in war and peace.

oh well, i must laugh all this philisophical talk away and just trust in myself, think less, enjoy it more.