Spent 22 hours over 3 days to finish this surprise birthday commission carrying lots of love from a beautiful group of friends to a special person.
It was my first creative commission based on a concept/subject.
To me, it is always a wonderful feeling when someone purchases a painting I completed. It is a magic moment of connection between the collector and me or at least my momentary reality at the time of creation.
Working on a creative commission is the opposite. It felt like peering into the person’s world in my imagination. In this one, I saw warmth, brightness and fun.
I love spring, but autumn has always been my favourite. Love the term “fall”, so leisurely poetic. Those maple leaves were time-consuming to paint, but I had the vision of them falling in the process, I saw them floating in morning breeze, slowly descending in front of my eyes full of playfulness, and eventually land on the surface of water. The word “fall” is an abstract of the entire breathtaking process.
On that note, I also like when the word is used in “falling in love” or simply “falling.” However, to me, it used to have a sense of destiny, a process of losing control, therefore often had some fear written on the flip side of its irresistible glory.
But now, I feel something has shifted in me, maybe while I was falling with these maple leaves. “Falling” to me seems no longer a helpless process of crash and burn. It can be poetic and we don’t have to quit our logic. Remain conscious and in control is not conflicting with staying open and vulnerable. With that shift, the fear disappeared as well. As much they consumed me in many late nights, these maple leaves taught me something beautiful.
I’d never painted the ocean or clouds before, so I allowed myself time to float on this piece. After many many hours of work, procrastination and patience, finally here it is. The very first piece of a new series – The Wanderer’s Ocean.
I took this photo last year on an evening stroll along St Kilda beach when encountered this magnificent sunset. After a moment in awe, I caught myself feeling mildly disappointed when such a breathtaking view wasn’t a shared experience, as I always had a strong will to share the beauty of life’s offerings with the ones significant to me.
It took me a very long time and conscious work to finally understand: solitude is not in contradiction to togetherness, it is not a suggestion that we should walk this world alone, instead, it is the ultimate acknowledgment of one’s own significance. It is to acknowledge the wholeness of one’s own being and enjoy one’s own company first and foremost. It is the ability to feel, apprehend, experience and appreciate each interaction with the world in the status of independence.
When it is achieved, sharing becomes an ever pure connection among individuals, with no complication of reliance or fear of loss. When someone walks beside you at the sunset, you understand they might see an entirely different picture, and think that is exciting. When someone really sees you, they will see the ocean in you, feel the sunrise in you, dance to the music in you, they will share the sense of wonder with you and invite you to see, see their morning flowers, hear their whispering rain, touch their bonfire warmth…with joy, excitement and love. What then shared is way beyond a moment, a view or an experience, it is two already wholesome spirits enriching each other with essence of their own adventures.
I had a much more peaceful image on my mind for the blank canvas. I almost gave in to the false sense of serenity, because, it was easier.
But I couldn’t shake away all the shadows. I silenced myself to avoid awaking them but they were alive. So I decided to look at them, piece by piece with all their feathers and breath, I touched them, I am feeling them.
Then there was sound arising from the silence, then music.
There were colours beyond the grey. There was light soaking through the shadow.
There were tears, and then there was joy.
There were burning pain followed by warmth, passion behind wounds.
There was no beyond. Here is life. With all its shadows and lights, glory and agony. Vivid and real.
When I choose not to be mute again in fear of pain, I stare into the eyes of my own demons, one by one. Then they offered me their power.
They said: the choice to live open will hurt.
I said: all worth it. By the way, I know I will be living with you guys for a long long time, but I am no longer afraid. I am alive.
“I have woven a parachute out of everything broken.”
— William Stafford
Dedicate to all the courageous, strong and loving people I am privileged to know, the ones aware of the risk of conflicts still choose to stand by their own truth, with the knowledge it would take effort still choose to become better, understand it might hurt still choose to connect
Been a while since the last portrait. Colour Portrait Series No. 20. “Flow”. Acrylic on round canvas 61cm diameter. Don’t know since when, life has been marked by the number of paintings completed. All these faces on my wall were myself, at some point in my life, gazing through different pairs of eyes. But all of them were true, to the moment, to myself. I use to believe there is a paradise on the other side, we just need to sail through troubled waters to get there. I use to think butterflies were born in fairytales, where all stories end with happily ever after, no one needs to taste sadness or pain.
Then I traveled to places, met people, laughed, loved, cursed and cried. I am still sailing but no longer longing for the other shore. Because my life, though never was a fairytale, had butterfly moments worthy the suffering through pain. I am still dancing, awkwardly, but I am feeling the flow, slowly getting smoother, when I learn to stand on my own feet and feel the earth beneath me. I am still learning, to smooth my damp feathers and get through wind. Life is never easy, “nothing has meaning is easy”; there is always a shadow behind every ray of sunshine. There is no the other side, they are always one. And above all the winding roads, life will start to flow, not one day, every day.
I took a photo in Osaka in 2018 while traveling around Japan – a beautiful country where discipline and magic lives in perfect harmony. The picture always reminded me the magical world in Hayao Miyazaki’s stories.
I knew one day I would turn it into a painting, when I have enough confidence to do it justice as it would involve a lot of work and I am not a very patient artist.
Then Covid hit. Four months into lockdown, I thought: well let’s do it! Why not?
An hour painting at the end of every long working day became my calming pill and mind journey. No matter what is happening around and how tight we are sealed in confined spaces, our mind is always free. Free to wander, to create, to connect, and to remember.
132 days, over 100 hours’ work later, finally, I completed it and I have something else to remember this year by. Along with all the familiar or unexpected encounters, connections, friendships and more. 2020 is just another year, unordinary, but really, which year is? Everyday is a brand new big unknown. And I have learnt to have faith. Have faith in things I can’t foresee, and there shall be joy, safety and wholeness.
Recently sold to a very lovely collector in WA Australia. Couldn’t be happier 🙂
No matter what is your interior style. A sophisticated black & white industrial or a stylish & modern Scandinavian, it will work just fine.
This might be the last blog post of 2020 from Lily Iris Art. May be 😉
I want to thank you for all your love and support this year and wish you and your loved ones a wonderful festival season.
When all the masks are taken off and outfits are folded away. 12am. You and your naked soul under a trillion stars with no one else around.
That’s the time when all the delicate visitors descend from the night sky, light as feathers landing on your skin. All your senses are waken by the gentle touch of memories, emotions, secrets, thoughts, fear, regrets, a moment survived through eternity kept coming back, or words never said but never forgotten…it all seem unavoidable with no room to hide and no point to deny.
So open your arms and welcome it. Try to understand the message your visitors are trying to deliver. Let it touch you, but don’t let it disturb you.
When all the lights are turned off, night allows us to see our lights within. To face our vulnerability and get closer to our truth. Like a snail moving across the hard surface of earth with the most tender part of its body. Then it becomes stronger.
Vulnerability isn’t the opposite side of strength. Night isn’t the opposite of light. It is the time before dawn. The time to understand, prepare, preserve and grow. Then the morning shall come and you will be stronger than you were ever before.
“There is some kind of a sweet innocence in being human – in not having to be just happy or just sad – in the nature of being able to be both broken and whole at the same time.” — C. Joybell. C
I have painted a few faces now. Craziness, pain, sadness, hope…I have been wanting to paint a happy face for a while but I couldn’t. I thought I wasn’t ready for it.
I had been thinking, reaching out and looking to capture the feeling of happiness. Until I stopped and just being. Being at this moment. Being present. Being “now”. And there it is. The happiness. Shining, vivid in bright pink and yellow. In every tiny moment I am living.
I learnt to pack away my yesterdays. They grew into part of me, my sweetness, my wisdom and strength; Those about to come will always come. Places it will take me to, people I am about to meet and love… I am not worrying or scared. They will all arrive, one by one, as little parcels of surprises.
I live right at this moment. Every moment. Truly. With purpose and intention.
I am not perfect, so I show up in every moment with all I have. Little by little, I become better. I no longer live any moment in the shame of my imperfection. I am me. I wear my weakness as a badge to be better. And I appreciate the ones waiting and guiding me through these moments and never lost their faith. Even in the moment of sadness. I open to feel it, fully. Then, I let it go. Sadness is no longer scary. What scared me was my fear of feeling hurt. Now I know pain is part of life . It scares some and teaches others. It will not hold me down.
Right at this moment. When I am writing to you and to myself. I feel happy and I feel whole. I remember Denis Waitley once said “Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude.”
Been a very long time since I felt like writing something…
Autumn Is A Skilled Lover
Among all the twigs and fallen leaves Autumn built a nest He pronounces his arrival lightly
289
In the moonless nights Rain drops Each Soft Numerous Quiet, persistent Square by square he penetrates Your body Tremble
When you about to curse his coldness He brushes your window with a fainty tint of yellow Barely there, but surely there Then you are full of gratitude Inch by inch Under your skin Warmth
He hides tiny bunches of flowers in your hedge He sends seeds of all shapes Tastefully arranged with no intention to impress He sends all sorts Even once A butterfly
He keeps all his playful secrets half open So you receive joy of discovering He takes you on walks with no words He just watches you And under his gaze You become the child, again Autumn is a skilled lover
You asked him about the season He said “fall”
Then he left, lightly Left you with plenty of small memories And a warm fire
He knows you will have a long and bitter season to endure Then after You will go for a walk With no word And you will see Among all the twigs and rotten leaves Autumn built a nest Then you will learn The once skilled lover planted a seed
.
