Be Where Your Feet Are

It's 3 AM. 
I've been lax about keeping this updated. 
I've been in rabbit purgatory trying to finish up this 36" x 24" Chaos Bunny for a special show in a few weeks. 
It was shelved for the last 18 months, in a sorely half finished state.  Here's where we are at presently:

“Aliza… you were born in Everett.” My mom said, trying not to laugh while also looking moderately puzzled.
From the age of 6 until I was 12 I remember telling people I was born in California. I have no idea why I thought this was true, but it wasn’t until my mom read over one of my school forms  she discovered my mistaken identity.
I’ve never felt like I belonged to where I was from. I was born and raised on a tiny island you’ve probably never heard of about 40 minutes and 30 years away from the city of Seattle.
A misfit:
Born on an island, yet I can’t swim and I’m terrified of vast open waters.
But I enjoy running in the mountains that are about 2 hours away. Scrambles with exposure bring me to my knees, though.
No matter where I am, there is an element of ever-present fear.
It shows up in my work, in the form of bears and bunnies. Bears, the threat. Bunnies, the fearful, always trying to stay a step ahead of that bear.

It shows up in other ways, too.
I am easily bored by traditional landscapes, florals, portraits. I might be the only painter alive who doesn’t believe in a still life.
I want to capture the aliveness I feel when I’m at the easel. Give me movement, give me motion dazzle.

Yet, here I am, still.
Still life, quick heart.

While I’ve never felt rooted, I remain.
Even though I know I am solar-powered and struggle through every long dark winter here, I remain.
It’s not that I like being miserable.
It’s not that I like the rain or the cold.
I know that when I away from the sea or when I can’t see the mountains I feel unsettled.
And so I stay.

I paint my way through the place in my heart where it is always winter and the night seems like it will last forever.
Because, you’re here.

I have learned that we cannot choose who we love in this world.
I have learned you cannot trade your love for someone to love you back.

I have learned that there is a tiny keyhole in my chest and if you unlock it, paint and canvas and brushes fall out.

I have learned that there is a little girl with a paintbrush in my heart, and she has painted thousands of foxes about you and only you.

Be where your feet are.

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Courage Doesn't Always Roar (tiny creech in progress 5x5")

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A momentous upgrade for the trash can stool