Art, bloggity blog, writing

Thoughts on how abstract art can help you

I was talking to one of my friends this morning about how to get back into the swing of things. She asked me how I got my groove back after I escaped Rock Bottom.

And it took a while, but, in the end what has helped me is blogging and abstract art.

Quite often when we create art we put so much focus on things and it is that focus which we lack when we become blocked.

Blocked = no focus.

No focus = no art/no words.

No art/no words =sad artist.

Well, actually, sadder artist because normally we become blocked because we are sad (or sick or anxious or tired etc)

Abstract art allows you a kind of freedom to be creative without actually having to create something specific. Especially with art forms like acrylic pouring, drip painting, drawing fractals, ink blots and other such “chaos” art.

I call it “chaos” art because it is less about talent and more about luck and outside influence. I’m not saying that it doesn’t take talent or that those who use these forms are talentless, it is simply not as reliant on talent as trying to do sketch wirh charcoal or do an oil painting of your great aunt Petunia.

But it is a way of creating and expressing and getting almost instant results.

Same sort of thing for the blogging. Sometimes, I have no idea wtf I am gonna write about. I haven’t been able to put pen to paper at all. So I just pick a thought floating around in my bubbly grey matter and start madly thumb-typing away.

It is about getting synapses firing.

Blood pumping.

Creative juices bubbling and boiling until they simply spill out of your noggin.

Now I will leave you with a few pickies of the pours I (and by I, I actually mean me and the roomy) finished today.

Love

Amberley

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bloggity blog, writing

Summer shade

The cicadas are loud today

Singing their merry creed to the summer heat

Like lovers

Summer and cicada

Star crossed and long distance

They use the only words they know how

Trrrrrp trrrrrp trrrp the cicadas sing

The summer heats up

A southerly breeze blows

And the cicadas sing

The breeze coaxes leaves from the trees

They float down to litter the grass

Feeding the tree in turn to make new leaves

And the cicadas sing

A horse whinnies in the distance

Safe under the shade of a swaying, fragrant eucalypt

Parrots flock to the trees

Getting drunk off the sun-kissed flowers

And the cicadas sing

A storm teases the horizon with its darkness

Lightning crackles

Electricity in the sticky air

Thunder moans

Long…

and deep

And the cicadas sing

I sit under the shade of the tree

I breathe in the summer and exhale the hope for an early winter

But the shade kisses my skin, sweetly

The way only summer shade can

The scent of pool chlorine and eucalyptus and baked asphalt is thick

The aroma of a summer freshly cooked and ready to be devoured

And so

I eat

I gorge on summer

And the cicadas sing

Love

Amberley

This was just a random stream of thoughts as I sit and watched my kids play in the pool.

As most of you may be aware, I’m not huge on summer. But as I watch my kids in the pool… how much they love it. Splashing and floating and staying still to allow a dragonfly or wasp to come drink… It makes me hate on summer less and think more on the good, more on the love and deliciousness of everything…

bloggity blog, writing

Yet…

I miss the way you look when you are staring at something you love

The awe in your eyes

The gentle curve of an alomst-smile on your lips

Your brow smooth, worryless.

Me: Sally

You: Jack

I miss your gentle touch

The way you gather me up in your arms…

Me: a dandelion seed

You: a sweet, summer breeze

I miss the passion and the heat of you

Hot enough to start a fire but never burning my skin

Me: Morticia

You: Gomez

I miss the look in your eyes…

I miss the smile on your face when you see me.

As if I am a happy surprise

A gift you did not expect

And that smile is the special one you only show me.

Only my eyes have seen…

Me: Hermione

You: Ron

I miss your hand on my lower back.

Me: the canvas, blank, waiting

You: the paint, colour, life

I long for all these things.

And more…

All these things I have never had.

Because, I have not met you,

Yet…

Our paths have not crossed

Destiny has not pulled us together.

There must be more for us to do

More for us to learn

Apart

How do you miss someone you have never met?

Love

Amberley

PS this is in no way about goat-dragon.

I miss goat-dragon the way an insect misses pesticide. The way a snowman misses the desert. The way a dog misses its intestinal parasites.

Not at all…

FYI: This is the first time I have written about love in a long time… maybe something has healed. Maybe something has changed. I dunno. But if you made it this far, thank you for reading my terrible poetry. All the love…

bloggity blog

Life-upcycling

I am currently walking up and down my hallway. I’m not pacing, exactly…

As part of my life-upcycling that is in progress, I’m trying to get fit again.

It is too hot to walk outside and I have no one to look after the kids. I don’t have the money to join a gym and I know I wouldn’t go if I did.

I don’t want to do nothing. As tempting as it may be to curl up in bed and let myself drift further down the spiral. That is not what I want to let myself do.

So, I watch my FitBit as I race up and down the halls like a manical cat on heat… with out all the screeching of course.

Well, maybe a little screeching.

It is ironic actually. My destination-less wandering is a lot like my old life. A lot of movement nowhere. Floundering. Swimming through pitch.

Except this is giving my legs a workout.

Love

Amberley

bloggity blog

Australia is like Melisandre’s snatch

I’m Australian. Like, as in, I was born here. Blood-nationality (if there even really is such a random notion) I’m like a slow-cooked stew. But that is not at all what I wanna talk about today. actually I don’t really wanna talk about anything. (But here we are …)

Why don’t I want to do anything?

Cause it is fucking hot here!

Australia is like sitting under Vulcan’s ballsack. (The Roman god of fire not the Trekkie kind)

Australia is like Mordor in the Summer time.

Australia is like Melisandre’s snatch.

Australia is like a giant  bowl of boiling chili. It is hot. Like “hot” hot. Like “fuck off” hot. Like “we have pulled all of our mattresses out into the only A/Ced room” hot. (See the heat is making me WAY more vulgar than I normally am.)

It was 47C here the other day. That is 117F…

If all you lovely Americans, having your snow storms up there, could please send some our way? I would super appreciate that.

Please and thank you.

That’s all I came here to say toady.

No life lessons.

No shiny pearls of fucking wisdom.

Just me bitching because I have to walk around in clothing and I can’t just get around topless like blokes can. And complaining that I am currently using antiperspirant in my bra as well as my armpits because boob sweat is a real problem and it’s super gross.

Now, I’m gonna leave you with that image and go pass out in the lounge room and day dream about winter.

PS Please feel free to tag me or send me picks of your snow. I just wanna look at and imagine I’m rolling around in it. Thanks

Love

Amberley

Oh and I will leave the google link for Hot Australia here because they were fucking hilarious and I couldn’t put them all here…