Continuation of white flowers entry.


Only today did I find a painting that I liked and used it as a reference and was pleased with what I saw! In fact, today I succeeded in accepting and liking painting after painting after painting.


I think that this means that I found something.


I think that I am learning my style.


I want to paint fast.


I want to paint without thinking too much.


I love the loose look.


The feeling of freedom that I experience when looking at paintings that I like that are painted loosely really touches my spirit.


I feel something free, something inside letting go, yielding, exploring, discovering, going free....
a painting that is painted loosely and that I like excites me, makes me want to learn more, to paint more, to copy....


And this is where my motivation is strong, this is where I am passionate and determined and accepting of myself as an artist.....


This is where I am moved, where I jump and do summersaults from the inside.... when I come across it I get real happy, so happy that all of my negative thinking disappears... and what remains is color and shape and form in a wild buzz of freedom and expression...


That sounds so simple. Only that I am struggling so hard to try to figure out how I can create like this. And what I am finding out is that I am impatient, impulsive, messy and more and more of the same...


But even with the impatience, I paint and paint for hours. I paint from the tube. I slap it on. And then I obsess and obsess and obsess.


I don't plan in advance. I don't put a little structure down. I barely take the time to mix the colors. I usually paint from the tube and mix colors as I go along. This lends itself to a huge waste of paint. Which makes me wasteful too. Add that to tlist of negatives that I have discovered.


I don't want to take the time to think slowly and clearly, to plan out, to copy diligently and patiently, petal by petal. Nooooooo!


I want to work fast, with palette knife and brushes. Oh, I paint with a kazillion brushes. I restate the mess part of all of this. So, I want to work fast with sweeps of color. I want to paint flowers loosely and with depth and personality. I want it to come easy and to look easy!!!!!!!!


I am tired of looking at other artist's work and thinking that I wish that I could paint like them. I am tired of looking at other artist's work and thinking how crappy my art is next to their artwork.


Today I was rejected from The NOS Summer Selective and from the New Art Centre Holtzwasser Gallery Submission.


And today, my PN friend, David, from New York received my painting of red and yellow tulips in water-color. He said that he though nothing would lift his spirit today but then my painting arrived and his spirit lifted!!!!


And I got a beautiful facebook message from a young women with PN that searched PN on youtube and found my poetry. I am so grateful that she wrote to me. She thanked me so much for my poetry. She said that it was very meaningful to have all of her feelings validated and reflected through my poetry.


So, today, I have finally accepted my white flower paintings!!!


And to me, from now on, white flowers will symbolize self-acceptance and acceptance of my place in my life.


How can I accept myself if I do not accept where I am in my life now?


Wow. That is a huge question. A very profound one.


Another frustration that I feel profoundly is the frustration of wanting to have/be a voice for the things that I believe in. Through my art. And recognizing how little I know and thus how limited my expression is, is very disturbing to me.


I want to do work on animal abuse and the cruelty of factory 'farming'. I want to do work that will be looked at, that will change things.....but I feel so small in my artistic ability and I feel so useless when I think of the tiny effect I would have even if people saw my art.


The denial of the cruelty and brutality of factory tortures kills me. It kills me. It is part of what made me not want to have children, that and the holocaust. I couldn't make sense out of them and I gave up inside on life.


And I still do. Even though today I want a child. I still give up from it. Still feel so angry and helpless and useless. The way that I did so many years ago at the bull-fight in Barcelona. I had wanted to scream in rage, to scream so loud that the whole fucking stadium would hear my cry, would feel my pain, but instead I just walked out, tears spilling, angry and invisible, having done nothing to stop the horror that I had watched in front of me.


And the absurdity too. It made no sense to me. I remember vividly looking at a young daughter that was sitting on her father's shoulders. I remember watching them shouting and cheering on the matador as he stabbed the bull over and over again. I could not make sense out of it.


These are the things that make me feel like I come from another planet, and that my stay here is some kind of mistake. There is so much that humans do that I cannot understand.


One of them is eating animals in a system that tortures and causes profound and extensive suffering to our brethren animals.


I don't understand it. And I feel angry.


But, one thing that has happened this week is that I have seen that Jamaica Plane has a lot of awareness and that there are other vegans that I can connect to that struggle with the same feelings and want to create change.


White flowers feel like a relief, like a moment of clarity, like a gift of gratitude and of acceptance in the moment.