Second Wind

Tree Lady makes a return... and appears to be growing.

I've had a bit more clarity in the last couple of days, so I've started drawing again. Might be dipping back into charcoal and painting on panel with acrylics, if the inspiration stays.

Yelling into the Wind

I'm never quite sure if I should be doing more or less of it.

Pace

My week's been a bit rough. Several events, good and bad, came up and I'm still digesting a lot of it. So forgive me if this post and the next few are more sentimental than usual.

I originally started this painting last year as a way to study oil paints on my own time. I remember being frustrated with skin tone in particular. The subject is Leonardo Da Vinci's sketch of Pleasure and Pain. Bridging his sketches into oil was a fine challenge I set up for myself. Even better, my oil teacher used the magic word "can't" (as in "you can't make an oil painting out of it if you love the sketch too much") and that got me motivated.

But I set it aside after awhile because I knew I needed to learn more before I could do it justice. That is, until last week.

A very close friend of my family fell ill. Cancer. He basically mentored my mother back when she first came to America, so I've known him my entire life. They built a company from nothing together which later became one of the top ten in its industry. It was later bought by Old Williamsburgh Candle for a hefty sum, but without his company Harold always seemed a little sadder.

Even though it's been over 15 years, running around the factory on my "sick" days are still very important memories. Every once in awhile, Harold would bring me an old toy and I would cherish it.

When I heard the news, I didn't know what to do with myself.

So I started painting.

I think in such a situation when I felt utterly unable to help someone important to me, I ended up trying to control the painting instead. The initial earnest gestures are there, but now they are overlaid with a little more understanding and patience.

I don't intend to give it to Harold. I don't even think I could finish it in time. But when I asked my mother what I should paint for him, she told me I didn't have to. I just had to be there.

Anniversary

It's been exactly one year since I went on my study abroad to Thailand and Cambodia.

The trip was a turning point for me; not only was it the first time I had been overseas, but also my first glimpse at the region my family was from. I could go into the oddities of being an Asian-American in Asia versus an Asian-American in America, but it'd basically be a sociology paper and I've had enough of those.

The photo is from Cambodia in one of the many temples that was either Hindu or Buddhist, depending on who smashed it up last. It'd be nice if I were joking. Buddhas carved into Linga then back again, back and forth until finally someone just throws the whole pedestal outside. The art conservationist in me cries.

In all the areas we went to in both Thailand and Cambodia, tourists can climb all around and on the temples. If it was a contemporary temple, it was in use and you could go in. If it was ancient temple, you could go in and (if you're a jerk) mess with everything.

But the experience of walking around in a centuries-old stone labyrinth in the jungle was surreal. It's preserved fantastically, at just the right point where it's obviously ancient, but still retains it structure and sculpture. If you go during the off-season when almost no one is there, you feel like a lost adventurer who stumbled on something wonderful.

Sloth

There are days when I just need to take time off. No errands, no tasks, no demands.

There will be another train in five minutes, stop running.

The canvas will still be there tomorrow, stop pushing.

So every once in a while, I put down the pencil and go outside. If I'm lucky, it's pleasant enough to go barefoot. I often end up sitting on the steps and just staring out at the horizon. If a change is wanted, I close my eyes and listen.

During these moments, I think about everything. Or nothing. Depends on the day.

This is the closest I get to art without actually doing art. I believe that art is the practice of making a mental concept into a physical image. So naturally, a healthy mind is just as important as a developed skill set.

Although the definition of "healthy mind" is always arguable, particularly with artists.

Every exercise needs a rest and stretch, mental ones are not excluded. So when feeling overly stressed and troubled, just stop. Stop, turn it off, and go outside. I'm not asking you to smile and pretend the problems aren't there, but to take a moment and clear your head. You will lose a bit of time, but it's much easier to take on something without a cluttered brain.