Stories...oh those dreamy woven tales. I love them in songs, poems, movies, books, or articles. I love imagining them. I love stories almost any way they can be dished up.
But I never thought of painting as a way to tell a story.
Painting stories happened secretly; at least it was secret from me. I didn't realize that's what I was doing. Although there is always a back-story in my mind about the painting and the people in it, I never thought that was seeping into my art.
I picked up a group of my paintings from a local coffee shop recently to get new photos of them for my online shop (coming soon).
When I brought them home and set them around my studio, it felt as if I'd brought home old friends.
It dawned on me as I looked at each of them that they had a story, one I'd given them; and those stories were peeking out from each canvas. I'd been sad to put aside writing for awhile due to unforeseen circumstances, but picked up painting in it's place. Now it dawned on me that:
My stories had not stopped being written, I'd just chosen a different tool.
I can't express how happy that made me. I hadn't suppressed those dear stories, I'd painted them!
I hope the stories sing through to others when they look at my art. I hope they hear the tales hidden in the brush strokes.