acrylic abstract painting by emily weil

daily painting | paper trail

I almost titled this piece Sand Worms after seeing Dune 2 last week but it was too specific (not to give anything away but watching Elvis combat Willy Wonka was fabulous). I created this on Easter Sunday, a lonely day for me, but also satisfying as being in my studio felt perfect and restorative. I listened to a mix of Beyonce and Bonnie Raitt and Judy Collins. I sat in my chair and had a dialog with the work-in-progress, asking the painting what it wanted next. I was in my own private paint world which was where I needed most to be, and I gave thanks for resurrection and healing and new hope — I wasn’t feeling it, but I appreciated the concept. It’s important to hope even when it isn’t reasonable to do so.

Happy Zombie Jesus day, everyone.

23″ x 18″ acrylic, oil pastel, paper collage on stretched canvas = $675

 

 

 

abstract acrylic painting by emily weil

daily painting | overflow

Aahhh… back in the studio. I’ve been working on this small acrylic abstract on-and-off while also creating a larger commissioned watercolor piece. So I took out the acrylic paints while the watercolor layers dried. I’m really gratified that as I take a few days off in a row from brother-care, I have more energy for making art. Makes my heart feel better and gives me hope that I have a future that includes painting. Easy to get submerged as a caregiver; it makes my life smaller. But it won’t be forever, and I know that for now my dear bro appreciates my love and company. And the feeling is mutual.

Jim and I both were challenged for several weeks, navigating his roommate situation. Peter, with Alzheimer’s, occupied the 2nd bed in Jim’s room. It was temporary, as yesterday we moved my bro into an Assisted Living studio apartment (for which he’s been on a waiting list since last Sept). The sad, demented roommate often urged my brother to make phone calls and write letters for him; Peter was convinced he was being poisoned and held against his will. My dear bro felt bad about the guy’s tragic situation and tried to help, but Peter was manipulative, and Jim’s cancer prevented him from clear-headed perspectives. The brain cancer may bring increasing confusion and fatigue, but Jim is still his lovable old, compassionate self.

12″ x 12″ acrylic, pencil, ink, oil pastel on claybord = NFS