I have several poems in the works, but my desire to make visual art reasserted itself and would not be denied. I have this crazy streak in which I forget I can make visual art. Oh, how I wish I could make art. I think maybe I should sign up for some kind of art classes, but no classes interest me. I’m sure making visual art is beyond me. I just keep longing to–and forgetting I can–make visual art. But when I’m lucky the visual artist in me breaks through–and ta-da!–I actually stop being stymied by the concrete block wall (imagined) between me and making art, and I make art.
In the past I have loved creating something I call “medicine cabinets”–at times for myself, at times for others. These little personalized boxes are filled with symbols, images, and words that have to do with the owner’s or recipient’s own “medicine,” what is needed for healing, integration, transformation, acceptance, growth or change. The sources may come from dreams, imagination, conversations, revelations or aha’s. The final piece is a kind of icon, altar, or embodied prayer.
While I return to working on my poems, I thought I would share with you the medicine cabinet I recently made for myself about my visual art. My coach-friend Gail gave me the assignment to write a statement about who I am that would actually include my visual-artist-self, and then practice saying that to people. You are my people. And I’m just saying…
