An artist painting bodies of every shape, size, age, and race. Follow her journey as she discovers the beauty in every woman.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Self portrait, even more exposed
Today was my first real day with studio time since Dylan's operation July 9th. I felt raw coming in here, so full of emotions about his surgery, his recovery, and the rest of life. I wish life were simple and kind. It isn't always.
I wasted a lot of time until I calmed down enough to draw, then I approached my self-portrait again because it's what's been on my mind this week if art has knocked gently on my door at all. I think about this piece a lot because it makes me uncomfortable to be drawing it. And also because I realize I really like it. The more I work on it, the more beautiful I find it. As I draw my face, I realize I like the contours of it. I trust my eyes. I understand my smile. The fall of my breasts is comfortable and, oh, so familiar. Even the crease in my belly has become more benign. At the museum the other day, Chris pointed out a lovely statue of a female nude and showed me that she had the same crease I do. I could see how slender and beautiful she was, so I began to allow for the possibility that I, too, am beautiful. My body, too. I like the openness of my posture. The vulnerability. Yes. This is me.
That's the title: Yes, this is me.
No more upside down coyness. No apologies. No shame. No embarrassment. This is part of who I am. My body. My flesh. My sacred flesh.