I am sitting in this nest (spiritually) this morning, contemplating ideas for art. I have a rotten cold that is
making me feel utterly uncreative. I have pieces to do for an art show (delivery this Sunday afternoon)
I am late, late, late for an important date. But I am determined to sprout wings and fly regardless
of this cold.
I bought two old rusty swing set seats with chains several years ago and have been wanting to use them
in a shelf assemblage of some sorts. The bird nest is real.. the old bed springs from a dump in someone's back field, and the wings cut from some lovely old screen that had white paint slurped wildly all over.
I love that. Who painted that screen? Why not neatly? I think of these things when I am reclaiming
things I have randomly collected from anywhere and everywhere. How many happy kid's bottoms
soared into the blue sky feeling the wind on their faces while sitting on the swing? And now these elements come to me asking for a new life, a new meaning. It's joy full for me. It is ART that makes me forget this
I am ready to do my art.