I completely amazed myself in numerous ways this weekend. First, I did my first cold water dive in Monterey and for some unknown reason (now) I was really scared. Mostly because of the frigid and murky water, and the kelp that would tangle and then drown me, like the trees grabbing at Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. I’m just not sure where this fear came from since I’ve been diving for years. So we geared up and walked to the water. I’m wearing a 13 mm neoprene wetsuit, hood and gloves, and with the tank and 27 pounds of weight in my BC pockets; believe me, this is not an easy thing. We snorkeled out at first with Scott leading. I completely lost sight of him just four feet in front of me, the visibility was so poor. Not being able to see anything really threw me for a loop so we went side by side and he held my hand under water until we got further out. That simple touch made all the difference. Then we got much further out and descended; it was a magical wonderland. The waving verdant sea grass, the bright orange star fish, hot pink lichen growing on all the rocks and the anemones that were the colors of the rainbow with white tips lit as if they were minuscule flashlights. All these things were quite small and you had to get up close and hover (practice buoyancy control) and I was captivated by the beauty.
Then we came upon a kelp forest with the stalks going up 3-4 stories high. I rolled over on my back and gazed at a configuration that looked like three slender sisters and I thought of Cathy, Kim and I. And here is the second way I amazed myself — at that moment (and still) I wanted to capture that image in a painting. Me, paint a landscape?!! B-O-R-I-N-G. I’ve only ever painted one and that was a failed commission (note to self – get money up front)… But back to the point, I’ve always questioned where does the inspiration come to paint landscapes? Because that’s so different from my experience in what motivates and fuels me, and thus what is manifested in my conceptual work. I thrive on the energy of cities and and my reactions to what is happening in the world, usually based on social injustice.
A landscape – that subterranean landscape moved me so much, I felt the need to capture it. Those three sisters had something to say to me. Maybe it was about trust; the unknown has something to offer you. Later, I said, as we were stripping off our gear, “the only thing to fear is fear itself” and laughed at myself.
Inspiration and what moves you comes from many different places and many different ways. I know now I need to be open to that and to allow myself to see the points of view that I used to dismiss. Now does this mean I want to move to the country and paint? Hell no… I can’t get to the city, any city fast enough. But it has opened my eyes in looking at the sources of inspiration and letting them come me in new ways.
