Grow

Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers "Grow."  -Talmud




I am not a painter. I've always preferred the control of pens, pencils, markers, etc. But this was made in a class with Misty Mawn at Artfest earlier this year. Here she is, showing us some techniques:

Misty works so intuitively and so fast! She doesn't think, she just goes at it. When she demonstrates a technique, it's hard to keep up with her hands to see what she's doing. She paints, she paints over it, she collages on top of it, she rubs it out and distresses it, she draws on top of that, she rolls something over it, she stamps on top of it, she rubs it off and paints over it again, wildly and fearlessly. It's fascinating to witness, and daunting to attempt...but before long, I was in my own zone, too.

I would not have chosen this class, but due to unusual circumstances, I inherited someone else's space there. I am grateful for the opportunity I had to work outside my comfort zone.

Sometimes it's just so good to use your hands and not talk. To be quiet with yourself and quiet the noise in your head. To bring it down from a thunderous chatter to a soft whisper to a breath. To converse with the canvas. To grow.