Week 126

This is actually kind of embarrassing. If you look at the video you’ll see you this hardwood panel has an irregular shape. That’s because before it was made into a painting, it had a previous life. When my darling girl was 18 months old she doggedly decided she must find any way possible to flip herself out of her crib. Hearing the horror stories of many parents trying to train a two-year-old to a big bed, I decided to extend the sides of the crib higher instead. In a moment of panic and inspiration, I grabbed our hardwood panels from the studio that we typically use for our paintings, and made inserts so the crib enclosure was taller and secure. I suffered some wide eyes and “tsk tsk”s for this move, but it worked. Long past the time of needing such a thing, it made it’s way back into the studio and our easel. 

Technically speaking, this one was interesting because we began with only the highlights, adding all those wonderful textures and accents that generally we save for the end. Then, starting in on the deepness that surrounds her, I can hear the soft groan and sigh of the old door barn doors as she leans into the place where the light is pushing it’s way through. The light is coming through like the rise of tide in a storm. Constant, soft and strong and resolute. And it is filling her hair and dress and face as she steps into it. There is anticipation... and wonder. 

Now, she’s welcome to pass through. She has so much freedom here in comparison to the 18 month old self, and so much knowledge to go with it. Many times I find myself reminding her that as she grows there will be more responsibilities and more liberties. No matter how old we get, those two come hand in hand, bidden or not. We also peer at those responsibilities and freedoms through a crack in the door, sometimes timidly with distaste, and sometimes bounding with no reservations. Yet endlessly, whether it’s in darkness or in light, we hold them and they us in turn. 

As I look at her small frame stepping forward, the moment before those doors were flung open into the beautiful oblivion of brilliant daylight, I know she will carry both and do it well. 

Chasing the white rabbit 

19x33 | Oil on Panel