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Once upon a time, there lived a little girl. More than anything in the whole wide world, this little girl wanted to be loved. She searched many, many foreign places for love. She kissed many toads for love. She loved and she loved and she loved. The more she loved, the harder it became. Her tiny little heart was fading. Layers and layers of molten skin were binding her. Finally, the little girl exploded. She began lashing out at everything and everyone in sight. Bolts of lightning were striking all she touched and did not touch. She began to spin out of control. As she spun, rings and rings were spinning off of her painting the earth. Many colors began flying throughout the air. Suddenly, she was naked. She looked into the water and there, she found her love. Now, to find the prince…

Monday, November 9, 2009

Blanket of Love

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas with Ink

A co-worker responded to my art. She said I only respond when it moves me. This one moves me. The story behind this art is my grandmother. The kids took my grandmother's quilts to the park. Later, they needed to be washed. That is when I painted this painting.

Truth. There are many lies. Husbands seeking love in a place where they cannot find it elsewhere. Wives surfing through time not accepting the truth. Long ago, women were, oh my god, treated as whores. It was horrific. Yet, it was only that, time. That time has passed. Feminine energy is creativity. We are not darkness. We are the light, shining upon pasts' history. Gender is gender. I see a soul, not a gender. Yet, I prefer that which I prefer. My truth is my darkness. I accept that. Life is life. Love, truth, and beauty. All which is real, at least to me and what I have experienced.

Blankets of love. My grandmother, we so disagreed, yet, she loved me. Yes, I took the painting of her quilts and layered them with love.


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