process...

i am back with my maids. back in the shadows of aprons. back in the subtle shifts... body language, pose, tilt... all the small corners that belie the little secrets, all the untold things, the history that went unrecorded, unnoticed, not shared, not held, not made warm. all that's been hidden and forgotten. that's why all the black. that's why all the white.

it isn't easy. this work has a weight that i struggle with. but it's so much better than i am that i'm sold on struggling with it for as long as it takes.

my neighbors asked me when i'll stop painting the maids. i said "when they're done with me". they started giving me ideas for new paintings after that... a different subject matter in spite of what i'd just said. suggestions... none of which i want and none of which i need. i wasn't offended. they don't understand. it took me a quite awhile to learn how to respect my practice too... i need to be right where i am. i trust this work and i know others will trust it too. i learned well and good how to trust the work a long time ago. i move in the direction it points. i take the tools i'll use and no more. and when i get tired and beaten, they say "rest". i curl up with my books and crochet hooks and wander off for awhile. i get warm and rested and then i come back.