marinelly artist



Sky and Water I; M.C Escher

Sky and Water I; M.C Escher

This a is new venture for me; it begins symbolically, and quite coincidentally, in the dawn of the New Year. You never know what triggers you might find to move you, you never know if you’re walking on a path, or rather, standing in the middle of nowhere, until you see something and it touches you differently. You see it in a new light, and that occurrence allows you to cross a threshold where the things you’ve experienced, you’ve read, you’ve heard, you’ve touched, you’ve loved, take on in you a transformed understanding. And this understanding somehow takes you by the hand and helps you walk across a threshold where everything –absolutely everything– you, along with all of your life experiences until then, become tinged in a new light and in a new color. Surprisingly enough, you come to realize that you are confronted with the possibility becoming someone different, and of using your experiences in their new and metamorphosed state to help you embody the new person that you are, quite inevitably and quite unexpectedly, becoming. And so, you begin to walk in this new sphere of existence, admiring everything anew, and are even able to shed parts of yourself that you’ve carried along with you, which have perhaps served some purpose in getting you across the threshold, but are no longer relevant, or necessary in your new realm of existence. This description is both metaphorical, and plain, and well here I am: Not completely the same, but not completely different, but definitely and utterly myself, and all at once uncertain of and enlivened by new possibilities ahead.

It is time now to explore the creative potential of interrupted and conflicted lives, where energies are not narrowly focused or permanently pointed toward a single ambition. These are not lives without commitment, but rather lives in which commitments are continually refocused and redefined. We must invest time and passion in specific goals and yet at the same time acknowledge that these are mutable.

- Composing a Life, Mary Catherine Bateson