[Original Post February 21, 2021] Oil on canvas 16x20" SOLD.
[It's been brought to my attention that my content, everything I've ever put on instagram, I don't own.
If social media collapses, so does everything I've written about my work. I'll be going through my posts working to transfer my work, thoughtful captions, etc to my own blog, The Easel Weasel,
This is a visual autopsy of sorts until we get caught up to present day! Some of these I will repost to the gram as I think it’s insane to look back on my journey these past 2 years.]
I have late night conversations with the moon.
He tells me about the sun
I tell him about
When I was working as a nurse in a hospital ( and working 2 other side/locums jobs) after my third year, I hit the wall. I found myself asking
What was I about?
What was I good at?
What do I want to put in this world?
I thought of that crap from Malcolm Gladwell's conversation around 10,000 hours, and how that is the difference between excellence and hobby.
What would I want to spend 10,000 hours doing?
I didn’t have the answer but it was offered to me by my dad.
I wasn’t sleeping much. I was emotionally burned out from my job and physically spent from years of consistent marathon racing and training.
He suggested I start painting again.
And there it was.
I don’t think I am here to win all the marathons or save everyone’s life (I’ll save as many as I can while I’m here though 🙃).
I wanted to create paintings worth viewing.
I wanted to paint everything I just don’t have the words for in a way that can somehow move people the very same way the paint helps me climb out of the dark.
There comes a point where life merely happens to you or you happen to life. I look back on my twenties, from behind an easel, and I am so glad
I didn't spend my life reacting.
I’m here to paint.
Aliza and Her Monsters