"Every man's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." Hans Christian Andersen
Saturday, December 09, 2006
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9
This year, instead of hours spent shopping, a charitable donation will be made in the name of my relations. Christmas is way overdone . . . and much of the true spirit has been lost. People camp out in the cold in front of retail stores to be the first ones in the door. If you look at the life of Jesus, his offerings were not material ones. Furthermore, he did not need or want gifts, except those of the Spirit.
I like my little house except that it is cold and I can’t get warm. Occasionally, I get a feeling of being punished living alone. I am aware of being circumscribed, like a prisoner. The funny thing is, I can feel like a prisoner even when I am in a group, and at times felt that way at home with Jean. Maybe it is my curse. I never feel that way while I am doing my creative work. Perhaps my soul is an adventurer and loves to be on it's own, seeking new terrain and discovery.
Once a week I go to a drawing group that hires a model to pose. The artists sit in a semi-circle while the model stands on a short platform, unveils and poses in various postures for three hours. It is delicious studying the human form and drawing it on paper. In this group, there is relaxed, free association, with intellectual, humorous, and sometimes bawdy conversation. Most drawing groups are very serious, with no talking.
After two great months of painting sales, I hit bottom in November. Too bad, because I have made some of my strongest work ever lately and I can’t show it.
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