Tuesday, March 14, 2006


Dealing with the coming and going of muses is an old familiar problem, but now I've got an overabundance of visitations yet I'm unable to respond and I don't know why.

Painting has been tough. Even the collages aren't happening though I'm inspired to do them. I'm looking back at the first set I did several years ago which came out of the blue and relatively smoothly. They were all watery, Jungian, and female, and happened at a time of busy transition and new endeavours just like now. Now I'm even more full of images and words, but utterly incapable of getting them out in a sensible form. I'm afraid I'll lose it if I can't make good on it. I hope to find some clue in these watery women.

"I am the mute who is speechless, and great is the multitude of my words".


wordperson said...

Dear Linda,
I hope you have come to the end of your block, or have at least been able to see around its edges. It is a frustrating place to be, knowing you have so many stories and images inside and being unable to articulate them for now.

I want to create something for Sherlock and all my lost kitties, but haven't been able to create something that satisfies me.

My first reaction to your plight is that writing/painting about flying and/or your father might release you. Perhaps taking a balloon trip might be a start.
My heart is with you.

Blessings, Lois

Linda S. Wingerter said...

It's hardest to work with what is most important, isn't it? There's always the sense, for me anyway, that I'll never be able to honor those things as they deserve to be honored, or show how big they are within me.

Thank you so much, Lois, as always, for your kind thoughts. A balloon trip would be wonderful, or, hangliding, which I've always wanted to try.