Painting in flow

I have been shaking in excited anticipation for weeks.

Losing my painting virginity again after such a long period of celibacy feels exciting, not so scary.
I know I am in good hands with Flora Bowley… when the student is ready…

And she is the teacher for me. Her paintings speak to my soul – her use of colour, her imagery, her approach.

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Flora with her paintings – borrowed with gratitude from her website 

The first painting class she has us dripping liquid acrylics onto canvas and smearing with our fingers – no mind, just letting it flow.

How good this feels after my A-Level art training which removed any sensuality, and intuition from art. We had to plan and re-plan our art, until we were ready to commit the perfect finished work to canvas, by which time it had lost any spark, any life, its dynamism and freshness. We all fought this, perhaps me most strongly, but we had to show lots of preparatory material – that was the place for experimentation, not the finished piece – experimentation was for private, and ironically for the examiner – not for the wall and the viewer.

It was a bit like making love by numbers.

But here I am now. The music which I prepared for births with, flowing around me – flutes and whale song, swooping female voices singing out of the depths, de profundis. This is where all art comes from – words, paintings, music…

All my paints are lined up, pristine and inviting, with names to make you moist with anticipation – irridescent gold, shimmering copper, quinacridone maroon, phthalo blue, vermilion…

And so as my blood flows, my cycle has shifted to its intuitive stage, the painting starts – brave, intuitive, sensual painting – no sketches in sight, just me, the music, the paint and the canvas. The sensuous feel of paint between my fingers. The vivid colours dancing together as they conquer the white space. Swirling, joyous, dripping, flowing with the music. Flowing with the life force within me.

Why has it been so long? So long to break through myself, my blocks, my fears, my limitations, to reach the colour, the flow, the expression I have yearned for?  I could cry this feels so good!

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