Marigold comes out....

It's blowing a gale today, and look who has dropped in! I love this little fellow, who can ignite passion and create joy, in a most gentle and honest way...

I opened my old folio, and this Trickster popped out, inspiring me to rant on Facebook, about how people just think I'm a dotty old woman who likes to live in a forest and knit... and I want them to know how I'm so much more than that... and I'm so pleased he gave me a nudge, because I never rant... it's not good form... is it? Well, perhaps it is! Perhaps this is a stage of life I must pass through... this needing professional recognition as well as financial support...

Today, I suspect I have "come out", as an artist, to myself... I don't suppose anyone else will notice, but this little fellow has helped me to see that I can no longer hide behind the Marigold Fairweather persona, whilst wishing to be taken seriously...

With a rush of air, and a gust of wind, I am now embracing my deeper work, and moving on with painting and sculpture.... Of course, I'll still be painting yarns for everyone... It's something I love to do, and I'm good at it, I know... but there is a song in my heart that this can not convey... there is a passion in my soul that needs expression, and the gentle art of knitting is simply not an appropriate vehicle...

So, here I am, still Marigold, but with more revealed, and I feel very liberated! And yes, today, it's all about me... and possibly you....
X

Art Floozie

This week I saw Monet's water lilies in the flesh for the first time...
 it was a breathtakingly, achingly beautiful exhibition at NGV in Melbourne....
.... moved me to tears... and being privy to the work of the master has left me wondering so much about where to go with my own creative work....

With spring growth putting on a spurt, I am drawn outside to the garden, to create & maintain... inside the cluttered studio tells the story of someone who has never specialised in, or perfected any medium...

I confess, I am an art Floozie, with a capital F! I haven't had one life-long passionate love affair with any particular medium, in fact I'll play with any pretty thing that comes along! Some may be horrified at my lack of fidelity, but I simply can't pass up a new creative experience...... yet I don't consider myself "dilettante", which implies being hopeless... I am brilliantly, blissfully happy in all my art relationships...

There is potential for creative expression in almost any activity, whether tidying my personal space, or making something for others...

I like to make my work from many blended elements - knitting with 30 or 40 colours thrills me, and mosaics that employ varying shades of hundreds of carefully cut pieces of glazed tile delight me...

I'd never make a meal from one ingredient, yet those I choose must compliment & balance each other, lest they result in indigestion, and a badly executed painting has a similar effect on the mind.... on it goes, into every area of my life, this ordering, this impossible quest for beauty & perfection....

So, I think life generally, is an opportunity to express myself & connect with my inspiration, whatever I happen to be doing at the time... 
BUT, is this art? Is a life well lived one in which creativity has been priority, as well as pleasure?
 A reason for living could be to create a channel through which the Arwen flows unimpeded... but is it art?