Every Painting Has a Story: Afternoon Tea

This piece was created over a month, layering many colors, as you can see. At one point, I went to the art supply store and begged them for the answer to my mystery … how can I get my white watercolor straight out of the tube to stay white? I mean, I put it there, and it goes? Why? Even without water? Gouache is what you need, they said. Ahh. So there you have it. This painting is watercolor, gouache, flourescent paint (try her in the dark, yes?) and pencil (both watercolor and lead).

Now again there was no plan, but I had a great deal going on in my life, mind you. Mind. Hmmm, funny I should say the word mind there. See, I this was September of 1997. I was way overstressed, at work, in love, in life, in my very soul. Oh, in the very depths of my itty soul. Itty vast soul. As it were.

I had just six months hence or so taken on the directorship of a social research center for a now defunct 70-year-odd-old revered community social policy agency and I was burned OUT. Way. I was trying so hard you see. This was my big moment, my career high. But because, unbeknownst to me, of my abuse history, of which I had no memory recall at that point, I was so very insecure, competitive, power-hungry. Blah. A mess of messes based on a mess. A martyr.

Okay. Well, whatever. Maybe you can see that frenzy in the painting? Now? Yes? So I was getting ready to quit my job and become a freelance website and database developer. The memories came full tilt (TILT) four months later. ‘Kay.

So I was thinking about a lot of things in this painting. I was thinking initially about having tea with my friends in Alexandria at this Irish tea shop, which actually happened before I left DC, and then I was remembering the good times having a beer or cabernet at dusk at America Cafe outside at Union Station (when they still did that, eh?) and watching the sunset over the Capitol and Mall buildings, rosy light, dreaming up political novels and such, discussing politics and getting uselessly, futilely mad at the way politics don’t work in actuality. And then, to top it off, I had this humongous crush obsession with a singer in a rock band which went so out of bounds it was … insane. He is there in the middles of it all, among fruit trees, fruit tea, apples, and enormous, raging winds, twisting the trees finitely, excruciatingly, revealing their previously unknown tree musculature. Hmm.

‘Kay. It’s rather beautiful, and exotic, and crazy.

Last night Jason and I had our lovely treat meal, as we are wont to do on Fridays, of turkey sausage biscuits and eggs, followed by me opening my card and presinks. Love my Shadowy Sea corduroys (on me now, like silk or … velvet! will never wear like this again I know, because of the washing machine, so, loving it) and dusty pink tissue turtleneck. You know JCrew. I’m a hound I am. (woof, good stuff)

Today I’m wearing the cords with a soft white pintuck henley from there, and an Anthropologie glass blast Pop sky blue baroque bangle, and the Ugg skuffed taupe clogs.

It was all I could to dizzy my way through short walkies. Totally surprised a twentyish African American man with dreads by saying, Good morning! Enjoying this weather? Take care. Blew him away with kindness. You just have to do this out there, people! Spread it! Especially with such bad racial polls as we have out there. Jeebus.

Anyway.

Very dizzy and feverish. Cold meds. Left hand … what left hand? very numb. Bothersome. ARgh. Some numbness now in the right index and thumb. What gives? Now I see the vascular doc at 3:15 here in Germantown which me likey because of Frankenstorm and whatnot. BY THE WAY we are planning to be driving in Frankenstorm at 2 pm to the gala birthday lasagna and chokit cake event. Hmmm. I have made it known that if our safety is at stake we shall not go but apparently it is not dire. At this point we do not know. But Lord how I hate the threat of hydroplaning, having done it the one time and totaled my car in the woods and hurt the back, etc. Hmmm. Just saying. So we shall be watching the weather gala or no gala. Harumph.

🙂

 

About amyjacksoncc

I am a professional artist, writer and musician creating from my home studio. To view my artwork, visit http://www.amyjackson.cc
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4 Responses to Every Painting Has a Story: Afternoon Tea

  1. jav3d says:

    What a remarkable work of art! And a very interesting post too. I can connect to You on that.
    My abastract works are almost always effected by how I’m feeling and what’s going on in my life at that particular point in time.

    One can see how much time and effort has gone into this piece.
    Very well done, indeed!

  2. iangoldsmith says:

    Really nice work. Lovely sense of flow in the image and great use of line and colour.

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