The Art Of Life: My Acrylic Choices
Republished from Dec. 2013
"You have to change to stay the same." Wm. deKooning
My Acrylic Choices
After being nurtured in the womb,
upon re-entry into this life,
my freedom to choose begins,
the long path of years lays before me.
I am an empty canvas, white and pure as cumulous clouds.
What strokes I take are as predetermined as my choice of mothers.
I crawl to canvas and hesitate,
I seize a wide brush,
and splash cerulean blue for serenity.
I am clumsy and fall.
I am a beginner at living.
As I grow, I walk to the faint blue canvas
cover it with the light purple wash of First Communion.
The rectangle of my life takes shape as I mature.
I splash red in the center.
An ego assertion?
Arguments and passion preside,
the dark geometry in Payne's grey and
burnt sienna are fear, fear of the unknown,
but I leap to experience what frightens me.
A bold flat stroke screams energy in diagonals.
There is a rhythm to the order.
The overwhelming black shape at the bottom is
the dark angel of death and grief.
Older now, I step back from the canvas of my life.
It's not finished, but it is taking a shape.
There's a unity of choices in the composition.
As I continue on, a work in progress,
who knows what colors will appear?
Perhaps as at the beginning I shall cover the canvas with white
as textured choices emerge as purified and whole,
and healing through the journey.
Carole Guthrie, 2013