We've hit the 40th hour, The Lady and I. (clicking the link will show you how she started out and you can see how far she's come along) The tender ache I feel when working on her was something I felt I needed to push on and work through, despite the discomfort. Art has a funny way of doing that to people, making them uncomfortable but somehow making that discomfort worthwhile. And so, I picked up my brush, put the music back on and let my emotions lead my hand.
And I'm not going to lie; it hurt. Working on her has been laced with a modicum of pain, the sort you keep coming back to - like a canker sore that you keep poking with your tongue or the bruise you continually push on to watch it change color. Yet despite the ache, I keep coming back to her. Stepping up bravely with my brush (and sometimes a bottle of wine) to keep walking this painted path with her. She has something to teach me, something to help me through. She's letting me pour all of my hurt, disappointment and emotional over-load in to her.
The Lady is leading me in to the darkness but will also guide me back out, torch in hand, like sacred Hecate. She has brought me to tears and to my knees before her and still she continues to push me to my emotional and artistic limits. We've hit the 40th hour, she and I, but in the deepest parts of my intuition I know we have many more to traverse. And though the changes may not all be stark and noticeable to those who are not up close with her, they are necessary as she spirals out and expands from my heart and on to the canvas.
I've lost track of the layers of paint she has in to her right now but the least built up portion of the canvas, the green spirals at the bottom, have 10 - 12 layers of paint. So you can imagine how much has gone in to the most built up area, the glowing vortex she holds.