I had the itch to burn something the past few days but I just didn't have to inspiration and I'm waiting to be able to get my hands on a piece of basswood for my big Cowboy at the Cross project. While waiting for the wood, I decided to sit down at my desk and muse.
Musing is when I consider a person who has been on my heart or come to my mind. I take that person to heart for as long as I can possibly budget for daydreaming and usually, when I get to musing, a certain inspiration comes. Often enough, the inspiration has very little association with that particular person. Sometimes, it's as subconscious as the designs people doodle randomly (for instance, when my mother talks on the phone she picks up a pen and paper and while chatting idly scrawls out the strangests patterns and shapes.)
My artwork is dedicated to my muses. As I work on each piece I think of no one but that particular person. A part of me and that person is fused into the artwork to bring out the mood that I desire. I know, I know, you're thinking, all artists are strange, nerdy, nuts, weird...out there! Thinking about other people is what I like to do, and my art time is the perfect time to do that. It allows for my compassions to flow while my other hemisphere controls my hand. Often enough, I am so deep in thought that I hardly pay any attention to what I am burning.
Other things are New at Phoenix Pyrocreation's art desk. While taking a leisurly stroll and sing by the creek I stumbled across more water sculpted roots which I shall decorate with time. I love these things!
Also, my latest inspiration comes partly from my new obsession with human anatomy. I love horseflesh and I've always enjoyed doing horses. Another horse portrait coming soon by the way! I can't wait! But first, I should explain my new fascination. I love eyes! I love eyes of all rich colors. Eyes, are the windows to a person's soul. But painting, sculpting, drawing, carving, or burning eyes would be just plain creepy.
My new love is the human hands...forearms, and the back and shoulders. The grace of a woman's hands and arms are as lovely as the rippling muscles in a man's shoulders and back. I can gaze all day at Praying Hands, hands holding pencils, gripping beams, arms resting on fence rails...you name it. A balled fist has as much grace as an open palm.
So when the inspiration hit, I felt to burn something with a powerful message. A tattered, frayed rope, gripped by two worn, tired, hands. A bit of a depressing picture for sure, but it has a dozen interpretations. I don't know yet what I'll call it, but I have some good ideas.
Follow me on Facebook to see my latest pictures and updates!