Lately I have been so inspired and eager to try new makeup products, new brushes and palettes. Also, I have found that the most relaxing thing to do on a weeknight is to watch Lisa Eldridge’s makeup tutorials (someone out there who’s with me?). 😉 Though I have reached a new level lately. Now I am longing for the weekend so that I can take one hour or so to just sit down and smudge products on my face to see what happens. It is just another form of painting, am I right? 🙂
Time to time I paint self-portrait just to check in, to see where I am at, to take my own temperature. Before I begin I never know what to expect. That is the case every time I Do (meaning make, create, and so on) something. It is a complete surprise to me, which might be because I do not fully know what talent seeds (which is an upcoming text as well 😉 ) I inhibit.
The pictures of this painting are taken by the window where I painted it. This is why a shadow falls onto the lower part of the painting. Just so you know. 🙂
This is Axel:
This is also Axel.
This was back in 2013, which might be the most turbulent year in my life. Maybe for Ksenia too, at least it seemed to be a year of questions and change for both of us. She and her husband had recently got married, and she told me about the difficulty to be accepted by his family. She had studied to become an architect and was in love with Kyoto and its beauty. She wondered if she would pursue her career or be the woman her new family expected her to be, which according to them were two very separate things.
- 3 dl milk of choice
- 2 tsp matcha tea powder
- 2 tsp agave/ honey
This is such a treat. It saved me during December and January. 🙂
This afternoon was so much fun. We met up and just started creating together. I felt so comfortable and safe, and that magic appeared that make the air spark and the pictures to suddenly be just right. Click. 😉
Hon men inte jag. Självklart är det hon men absolut inte jag. Aldrig mig och alltid någon annan, som får ta plats, som får vara henne. Varför får inte jag vara hon, den som står i ljuset och breder ut armarna utan att tänka en endaste tanke på att det skulle vara märkligt att stå där hon står, fel eller fult att stå där hon står, så som hon står? Det är en spärr hos mig som slår igen, slår emot, slår till, slår mig på fingrarna, att nej, det här är inte din plats. Du är inte den hon är.
Men så finns det en annan röst, och den viskar att också hon var och blev, också hon är bara för att hon är, och just därför får hon stå i ljuset, just därför får hon ta plats, ha plats och njuta, för stunden är hennes, platsen hennes och hon sin egen att välja, ja eller nej.
Her but not me. Of course it is her but absolutely not me. Never me and always someone else, who is allowed to occupy space, who gets to be her. Why am I not allowed to be her, the one who gets to stand in the light and spread her arms without a thought that it would be odd to stand where she stands, wrong or ugly to stand where she stands, just like she stands? It is a latch in me that closes, that strikes, that hits, that hits me on my fingers, that no, this is not your place. You are not who she is.
But there is another voice, and it whispers that also she was and became, also she is simply because she is, and because of this she gets to stand in the light, because of this she gets to occupy space, to have a place and enjoy it, for the moment is hers, the place hers and she her own to choose, yes or now.
All in 😉