Flying Free

When my child left home for college, I expected my art practice to shield me from the emotional fallout of this major change. It didn't happen like that, and before long I found myself creating a series of babies. The process let me understand a bit of what I was experiencing, and culminated in this piece commissioned by a labor and delivery nurse.

Utero Baby, charcoal, oil paint, beads, and glass on canvas, 24”x20”

Utero Baby, charcoal, oil paint, beads, and glass on canvas, 24”x20”

Any series I work on generates paintings that are essentially byproducts of working things out but don't stand alone as completed works. I stack these abandoned canvases against the wall and look through them when I need a surface to work on. I liked the baby (left), but felt done with it. I erased the drawing and wound up with a fragmented image (right). This would be the starting point for something new.

Pelvis Baby (unfinished) charcoal, sand, and acrylic paint on canvas, 24”x20”

Pelvis Baby (unfinished) charcoal, sand, and acrylic paint on canvas, 24”x20”

Erased image, charcoal, sand, and acrylic paint, 24”x20”

Erased image, charcoal, sand, and acrylic paint, 24”x20”

I was looking for a new way to express this feeling I had of being in the midst of transformation. I turned the canvas around and thought about the powerful emotions that had led me to make babies, and where that journey had taken me. As I turned the canvas, I saw a different type of birth possible.

Bluebird, charcoal, sand, acrylic, and oil paint on canvas, 20”x24”

Bluebird, charcoal, sand, acrylic, and oil paint on canvas, 20”x24”

This image has become iconic for me. It began with overwhelming and inarticulate feelings, and grew into a visual record of my passage from one life circumstance to another. The bluebird, harbringer of happiness, is gritty, messy, a bit dirty, and emerging to fly free.

Let me hear from you! Has the past week brought you a moment of breaking free?
All the best,
Alissa