Devils, Owls, and Letting Go

The show hangs in 13 days. Breathe for me!

13 days.

That is how many days there are left, including today, before my paintings hang at Field Trip Gallery for my first ever solo show!

I have today and tomorrow left as painting days, then it is literally paints down, so there is enough time for the thin layers to set, and Gamvar varnish applied, and framing done.

Ask me if today and tomorrow feel like enough time to finish what I want to get done (insert crying/nervous laugh emojis here!)

Below is an accurate representation of what my emotional regulation has been like on a daily basis this week. Hourly, even. It is one thousand percent accurate.

I am exhausted. I am fulfilled. I am excited. I am overwhelmed. I am grateful. I am prone to panic attacks. I take deep breaths. I forget to breath. I get so excited when I see the life shine through the oil paint. I am mostly staying hydrated.

And I am letting go.

Sort of.

I did let go of the two big paintings I was trying valiantly to get finished. And I was feeling embarrassed that I showed you an albeit pixelated version of them last week, feeling relatively confident that if I proclaimed to the world I was going to get it done, that I would. But I didn't, I couldn't.

It wasn't just a “feeling uncomfortable doing something new and hard” feeling (hello my constant companion), it was more than that.

I didn't have a great connection to the composition - I changed it while painting three times. The flowers were freaking me out. And it just didn't feel like it added as much to the conversation, the story of the show, as I thought it would. So, after a near nervous breakdown, two panic attacks (how is it we can literally forget how to breathe?), and a long cry (oh, this human-animal body is going through it), I decided to let go of them.

While there are still lingering feelings of disappointment and letting people down (I know these are my thoughts, not objective truths!), I have felt so much better since making that decision on Tuesday. It gave me space to lean into finishing some other paintings, and I am proud of them!

I tell you all this because maybe you need reminding that you are a human animal too. We have big feelings, big (not always true) thoughts, and can go on emotional roller coasters on a daily basis sometimes. And while it might seem a dream to be a full time artist, it is really hard work too - I mean it is not bricklaying (though my back does hurt) or neuro-surgery (though painting whiskers takes a steady hand), so yes, perspective needed too, but it isn't easy. Let's put it that way.

Creating art and sharing it is such an act of vulnerability, because it is not just the wild being on the panel, it is the wild being PLUS me. My experience, my thoughts, my feelings, my curiosity, compassion, connection. We humans are inherently creative, we find a way when the story inside us needs sharing so much we can barely contain it.

But we are not machines, even if we sometimes feel like we are. So all the feelings, big and small, abundant and scarcity-laden are all normal, annoying, but normal. Despite what we might see on social media, where it all seems so effortless.

Yeah. So.

Two big paintings finished this week (woot) - 60x90cm/24x36in. Tasmanian Masked Owl ⬆️ and two Powerful Owls (an adult and sleeping babe) ⬇️.

You know owls are my favourite, so this was a good space to be in while dealing with scribble-city above. And I am thrilled to say that the Tasmanian Masked owl is already sold! A big red dot already! 🔴

Also the three faces of Tasmanian Devil, at the top of this message, another favourite little being - I held my breath with each whisker application!!

Would you like to help me through this last couple of weeks of my exhibition creation?
You can buy me some more chamomile tea bags - I am going through them like crazy 🙃 🫖🍵

Every little bit helps :)

Ok. Back to it. Only today and tomorrow for painting days to go after all! 😬

Better brew another pot of chamomile tea 😉

Big love with a dab of oil paint,