daily painting | sub marine

abstract acrylic painting 9"x12" by emily weil

Do you ever feel like life shakes you sideways like a dog with a bone? And then you go flying, ass-over-teakettle, bouncing on your keister, seeing stars after skidding into in an unfamiliar landscape? Can I just say that I hope the crazy, sad, unthinkable, heart-searing losses in my family these past months teach me some valuable lessons? Make me stronger and saner? Yes please. I’ll get my bearings again, I suppose. Sometimes I sit upright in a hard-backed chair and place my hands on my knees, as it helps me gather my insides. It’s calming. I’ll be OK (stupid, blind faith). I feel like one of those boats smashed against a dock in Hurricane Ida-tossed Louisiana. Hoping insurance covers the damages.

I can’t decide if this painting feels like an underwater jellyfish parade or melting summer ice cream (or neither; you decide). Slopping paints around in my studio all but guarantees I’ll stay afloat. Getting my paints out is akin to divers that inflate huge air-filled bladders to raise a sunken boat up to the surface. What was that about water lilies, to introduce another watery metaphor — whose seeds need deep mud to sprout and reach up to the sunlight? Maybe my lily pad will house frogs and give turtles sunbathing places and provide resting spots for shimmery dragonflies.

Oh, and I happened onto this on Ted Radio Hour yesterday and it was an enlightening lecture on relationships: www.npr.org/2021/08/26/1031384034/listen-again-esther-perel-building-resilient-relationships-2020

9″ x 12″ acrylic, pencil, oil pastel on claybord = $140