I Have No Words
I am immunocompromised, and have spent the last year running the gamut from terrified to angry to flat out denial. I have quit jobs, moved, severed ties with many people, perhaps permanently if I am being honest.
I have also spent the last couple years tactilely, tangibly, making things with my hands to feel like I have contributed. I needed to employ this sense of touch more than ever before, to combat the multiple screens in my life sending incomprehensible “news” every hour of every day. And to combat the lack of touch in my personal life.
Despite the subject matter, I did these as meditation. Painting has been my therapy. I tried real therapy, but it’s expensive and I couldn’t find a meditative rhythm like I could with painting and color.I did not plan much. Each time I entered the studio, I knew exactly what to do next. This is rare for me. I just let it flow. I've been obsessed with the mandala for years, and the bright colors and high contrast were the only way to get through my fog and hold my attention.