The Ghost Garden is the spirit of the garden
How breaking my wrist helped me find a new painting style.
It wasn’t my intention to break my wrist, and I don’t recommend it. It was the first time in my life (and I’m old now) that I had a broken bone, and also had surgery. I don’t count the tonsillectomy I had at age 4 or 5 because all I remember from that is staying overnight in a hospital away from my mom and dad, and getting to eat a lot more ice cream than I was usually allowed to do, which almost made it worth it. But this wrist of mine broke in the perfect location to need surgery and a metal implant, so that is what I did.
It was a big drag to break my primary wrist, as I’m sure you can imagine. Suddenly the list of what I couldn’t do was very long: I couldn’t put my contact lenses in very easily, couldn’t put on a bra, cut my food or eat easily, cook, sew, shower without a plastic bag covering my entire arm, lift much of anything, drive, text, write, type with my right hand, and a million other things I’d just always just done.
Often without thinking about them too much, which I think was the point getting hammered into my awareness over the 6 weeks from the break, through surgery, cast, recovery, etc. I didn’t drive for two whole months, only 2 months after moving to a new city in a new state. I couldn’t DO, I had to listen to my own words and teaching as a meditation teacher, and simply BE. Ouch.
And through all of this, I felt really lucky. I had amazing doctors and nurses, good care, and a body that started to heal quite rapidly. I am grateful for all of the people who stepped up to help and give to me, especially my amazing husband. Thank you!
Even though it was a challenge, I wanted to paint again as soon as I could.
I couldn’t lift things easily or cut my food, but I knew I could paint using my left hand. About a week or so after I had surgery on my wrist, I started ‘Ghost Garden’. I’d been wanting to step out of my old painting style some more and also start to paint on board and canvas. I had a stack of Canson water media boards, pulled one out (very carefully) - I had to do everything a lot more slowly now. My husband obliged with opening up jars of paint for me, and I set to work.
Happily, I’m an abstract artist, and I knew this sudden turn of events would only enhance my ability to make new kinds of marks on my paintings, and perhaps allow me to find a new way to paint. Something else changed for me here too - I found a freedom, a breaking away from an old stilted energy I’d been feeling, a lack of permission to step out from an old style. Suddenly I had new energy available to me in this space. I started to see that an old standard I’d held myself to was holding me back.
The Ghost Garden is the spirit of the garden.
We are really living in a time of big transformation. ‘Ghost Garden’ features the spirit of yesterday’s flowers, with a promise for the ones still to grow.
I was enjoying my first autumn in Georgia, it’s a beautiful season here! - and painted the colors I was seeing. Trees don’t lose their leaves much until late November here, I learned, but the colors and the light were changing. As the purples and oranges appeared in layers in this piece, so did the misty center of the painting. I started seeing the ghosts of last summer’s garden, and decided that this piece was about that - seasonal changes, and also the big changes in my own life. Not to mention the massive changes on earth, for us all.
Slowing down helped me find a new style.
I write a lot about working in my art journals, doing lots of painting experiments. I love those so much, they are really fun and helpful to me as an artist!
Being forced to slow down while in the healing process helped me deepen my way of seeing and painting. I’d been wanting to go deeper, working in that direction, but this is the event that clinched it. Because I had to stop for a bit, and get off my own back about producing more, I was able to allow. And so a new way of painting is opening up. I can’t wait to share more of it, and will do so soon.
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