I'm in my seventies now and I just read something that made my whole life, and my art, make sense. I was amazed that a total stranger had nailed it for me. Sometimes artistic expression has no words because words haven't been put together in just the right way yet. I read a quote from a book about childhood trauma and how memories can become fractured as a protective mechanism. I've been breaking down and fracturing images that I want to paint "because it felt right." I didn't even know why. Now I do. Now the Broken Places series of tree bark paintings makes even more sense. I'm glad I just kept going, following the feelings, because I ended up right here in my fractured fairy tale, happily ever after.
