She left the warmth of the rumpled sheets and rushed to her studio. She must capture her vision before it escaped her. Entirely oblivious to the early hour and her cold, bare feet, she stood before a blank canvas and let the essence of what she’d seen in her mind’s eye rush out of her and into reality.
There was no hesitation in it. No careful deliberation over choice of brush or hue. The lines, the colours, all flooded out of her in an unstoppable wave. The paint met the canvas in a delirious frenzy of light and texture, as though it were predestined. Her movements were fluid and graceful as she lost her unawareness of herself. All that existed for the present was the painting.
The form she’d envisioned began to appear, taking shape as though she were no more than a conduit for art itself.
About passion I
In this piece I was trying to capture the essence of those rare moments. The ones where we lose ourselves, in a task, or in a book, a piece of music, or a movie. How we lose our concept of time, stop worrying about how we look, what has happened to get us to where we are, what is going to happen next, and we are truly focussed on whatever we’re doing.
