I wouldn't be a good doggy momma if I didn't do a portrait of my other baby. This is Rex - my Irish Setter. It's not very good at all, and instead of blaming the obvious, I will blame not having enough time today. I had about 40 minutes to paint cause we have company.
I was skimming over blogs this morning, when one moved me enough to actually stop and read. It was the web site of Karen Robinson. idoartkarenrobinson.com She lost her son in a car crash 5 years ago, and lost her husband to cancer around the same time. She turned to art as her therapy. It's a moving story. She found something to help her cope. My own sister-in-law lost a son ten years ago this month, and I can't imagine what she's been through. I don't want to imagine it either.
That all brings me around to the "why" of my painting a day. I think the why for many artists is they are struggling to make a living as an artist and so need to create small works on a daily basis that they can sell reasonably. They try to create a following and get known in the art community. But for me I think unconsciously my art is my therapy. I don't know why I feel this need, but there is something inside me that needs to come out. That's the only way I can describe it.
