The Bubble Factory

These days I spend zero time working on new visual art. But the two or three times a moth I sell a print from my first Etsy shop, I am often reminded of the passion I once felt for creating it. I have written about it before. . . the visual art was my last great attempt to create "adult art" with adult meaning and life perspectives but, while it provided a wonderful creative outlet for my energy, and I am proud of everything I ever did that is listed, I look at it all now like diary entries really.

This morning I awoke to the sale of a print of this piece below called "The Bubble Factory"

I am instantly reminded of a few things.

Created in 2011, this was one of the last original pieces I made while living in the city of Portland. That industrial building was right outside our apartment's art studio room.

Over the two years living there my feelings about that building and view went from grateful as, at first, there was the beauty of the total lack of people. . . only birds came to visit that roof and our windows.  . . eventually to feeling the ugliness of the utter lack of closeness to untouched nature. While it was better than staring at traffic or the masses, it still lacked soul.  It was during that mood/time I created this image hoping to put a little magic back into the view and in city life. 

And it was during that time I felt the entire shift inside to wanting magic all around me. . . all the time. . . whichever way I looked. And that feeling led us to live here

Ok, we do NOT live with this view out our window, our place in down there in the midst of that tiny town just across from the bay and marina.  But the magic of this place. . . and seeing sights like these that follow, every day, were exactly what my soul needed.  :)

nicolas

 magic. . . indeed.

Wishing

I was reading a post today about making wishes. . .

It struck me as such a poignantly simple and beautiful thing to do. And one of those things we just seem to forget about along the road of adulthood. . . Sometimes I feel I am so fully connected to those childhood days and then, every once in awhile, I am reminded of something that I have somehow forgotten.  Today it was wishes. . .

The simplicity of a wish. . .  the multitude of reasons that we came up with to make them.
The power and the wonder of the things that inspired them.

But then, it occurred to me that I DO still make wishes.  You might call it something else since it doesn't happen with a dandelion in hand or a falling star to prompt me. . .

But it's a wish just the same. . . after all these years of seeking and discovery, I feel I have found my place, my path back to the beauty of childhood.

My calling.

And every single day, I wish for. . . ask for. . . hope for. . . one more day to create beauty and whimsy and the certain magic that you might find within my work, be it photography, music, poetry and writing, miniature worlds or Egyptian statues.

To continue to be the vessel it comes into the world through. . .
I feel I am in service to it.
I no longer create what I want. . . but instead, I create what I feel called to make.

And every day, that wish I make, is for the chance to do that all over again. . .

Tomorrow.