The Truth About the Dragonfly

I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to make sense of my dragonfly friend. I don’t have a strong feeling about a specific visitor. I do have some feelings that it was a message. It goes something like this…

I’ve never liked abstract art. Truth bomb; I’ve always hated it. It actually made me sick! Almost literally. Then, three or four years ago something hap

pened. I lost three of my best friends, two animals and one human, in a short amount of time. I was grieving. It was rough. But I also started having an urge. An unusual urge to express myself differently. I wasn’t really sure what that was but I knew it had to be through my art. So, it happened—I created some abstract paintings. And, I’ll admit; it felt pretty good. I was proud. I was proud that I went out of my comfort zone and did something I never thought I would do.

I spent a few months creating several different works, all similar in style and technique. And then it was over. Just like that. I’m not sure why I stopped. But I haven’t stopped thinking about those paintings (which I just released this summer) or abstract art in general.

(This very second, I turned to look out the window…a red dragonfly flutters! WHAT?!?)

A new urge is stewing. I’m bursting with inspiration but have excuse after excuse not to paint. When it comes down to it, though, it’s all about you!

I’m terrified that you won’t like my new work. This guy who has painted animals for ten years suddenly stops to paint other things…gross! I mean, I might not even like it. But the urge is too strong. And, I know I have to do this. The dragonfly told me so.