I have come to love the energy of anger. Restless. Powerful. The churning heated sense of something deeply potent just waiting for release... its only a matter of when and how.
The anger I'm talking about isn't my more common experience of annoyance, irritation, or the indignation that arises when my ego has been bruised. No. This is the anger that arose when I found myself surrounded by foes ---- squaring off against cancer flanked by mercenary and unpredictably dangerous treatments. Rage. I have let the rage burn, working to neither squelch it nor exaggerate it, just to let it be. Rage can be glorious! It showered sparks when I wanted to give up; lit the path when it got dark; and singed the edges of medical establishment when necessary. It pushed me and still pushes me to be myself, to live my life, to stand up to BS in all of its forms (both internal and external), and to take nothing for granted. Its an ally, and I am grateful for its presence.
I wear a lot of hats in life, encompassing a variety of roles and relationships. I am becoming more comfortable with the whole "cancer survivor" hat, even finding silver linings in unexpected places --- like adding artist to my self identity. "Blogger" hadn't really appealed to me until I began getting requests to talk about what lies behind my art. So I'm going to give it a try. If you have gotten to this page, you have probably noticed from my paintings that I am quite frank about my experiences. Some of the images are stark and difficult to look at. To me, beautiful is not the same as pretty. "Beautiful" encompasses complexity that can include pain, tragedy, and darkness. Therefore there can be a strange beauty present in stark emotional and experiential truth. I am a seeker of beauty within pain, and of the beauty that grows out of pain. If you are too, we'll get along just fine.