Art is Medicine

Art is Medicine

I long for my kilns, my torch, my plaster, my clay, my fimo, my glass, my wire, my paper, my Cherub and Critter- the papermaking machines, my roundnose pliers, my needlenose pliers, my pliers that make curves, my hole punches in cunning shapes, my already made glass beads awaiting being formed into jewelry, my yarns,
my pulps stored in the fridge that frightened a vistor, who thought i stored wierd foodstuffs, and my yard a bloom that
fills its corner with light. I reach for tools that are not here and weep and weep for the making that filled each day to overflowing.

I signed up for an Art Swap. One year I did too many that did not return my expectations , but for each and every one, I learned something, solved a problem and created work that I enjoyed. So here, tool less and paralyzed, I had to rethink how to create.
And I am delighted to experience for the first time, putting paint ( and other things) on canvas. and maybe my camera
will make its way back to me so I can again document my journey.

I am so grateful to create.
All praises!

Art is Medicine