Without a Sense of Resolution, 2021
acrylic on canvas on board
50cm x 70cm
At this point, in my 64th year, I want to accept everything, all parts of myself, all experiences, good, bad and inbetween, to bring them into the fabric of my life, to see the threads, those present and in view, those underneath and often hidden. I want to look back and see myself without my deceptions, my protective exterior, my justifications. I want to acknowledge the hurt I caused those I loved, the lies I told and believed. I want to review the part I played more fully, flushed out in all its contradictions, meanness, and manipulations. And as I engage in these thoughts and enter memories of times past, I understand that there is no ending, no resolution, there is only the moment that is.
acrylic on canvas on board
50cm x 70cm
At this point, in my 64th year, I want to accept everything, all parts of myself, all experiences, good, bad and inbetween, to bring them into the fabric of my life, to see the threads, those present and in view, those underneath and often hidden. I want to look back and see myself without my deceptions, my protective exterior, my justifications. I want to acknowledge the hurt I caused those I loved, the lies I told and believed. I want to review the part I played more fully, flushed out in all its contradictions, meanness, and manipulations. And as I engage in these thoughts and enter memories of times past, I understand that there is no ending, no resolution, there is only the moment that is.
acrylic on canvas on board
50cm x 70cm
At this point, in my 64th year, I want to accept everything, all parts of myself, all experiences, good, bad and inbetween, to bring them into the fabric of my life, to see the threads, those present and in view, those underneath and often hidden. I want to look back and see myself without my deceptions, my protective exterior, my justifications. I want to acknowledge the hurt I caused those I loved, the lies I told and believed. I want to review the part I played more fully, flushed out in all its contradictions, meanness, and manipulations. And as I engage in these thoughts and enter memories of times past, I understand that there is no ending, no resolution, there is only the moment that is.