Always on my Mind

I've been thinking about this bush for over a month now. I saw it at the Royal Palace in Hue, Vietnam. It was just sitting there, a glaring example of so many things I've been thinking about and haven't really figured out yet. It's got something to do with futile efforts and physical evidence of a private moment or action - in this case, abandoned effort and enthusiasm. We are constantly walking away from things thinking we've gotten it under control, when really, we never will. 

It's awkward and heartwarming and human and a little sad. 

Who's with me?
Bea

Inspiration for Creation

This is Ha Long Bay in Northern Vietnam. It is extremely touristy there and did not have the hit in the face magic I was expecting. As I distance myself from the experience though, I realize that the three days I spent floating, hiking and kayaking through this area has made itself known in my heart and brain and isn't going to leave.  

These beautiful forms were stoic, otherworldly, quiet, solid, seemingly ever-present limestone formations that will be gone one day, destroyed by the same processes that created them. How can they feel so powerful and permanent but at the same time so intangible and elusive? The floating village, also fleeting, was colorful, moving, fluctuating, human, and alive. Seeing the two co-exist in such stark contrast made the other that much more magnificent.  

Why are the most important things in life the hardest to define and understand? 

Off to paint with this on my mind.

Heading Off to Paint...

... and these images are on my mind. 

I have to get a bit more used to being back before I can even fathom the impact the last two months will have on my painting. I'm not going to pressure myself to try and see a visual influence in my work right away (or maybe ever). I know there are some things you can't un-see, things that find their way into your bloodstream and stay there, eventually making themselves known in ways you never could have expected. I also know I just saw a whole shit load of those things. Below are just a few.

All of the photos above are from Thailand. In order: A view from the  ferry to Wat Arun in Bangkok, amazing light as the sun goes down over Ayutthaya (Thailand's former capitol), just another boring storefront, the kids that helped us cook while jungle trekking, and monk laundry.

More soon, 

Your devoted Beatrice.

I Must

I'm back from my jaunt in Asia. I'm re-reading Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke in hopes of an assisted adjustment. Below is a nugget I keep going back to. Read it slowly. I replace "write" with "paint" - you can do what you want with it. 

"No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse. Then come close to Nature."

I've got a solo show coming up in December and I'll be painting my little life away in preparation. I'll be posting more thoughts on here along with painting developments. Hopefully you can bear it. 

This is one of the best sunsets I've ever seen. Not just because it was beautiful, but because I was surrounded by people and at the same time totally alone. I learned a lot during that evening in Luang Prabang, Laos. 

Hugs and kisses and bottles of wine, 

Bea