My lack of desire, persuasion, curiosity or need to paint has been halted. It was as if, one day I woke up and I was no longer the "I" that painted or even knew how to. Like that, it was gone, vanished. It was sad and terrifying at the same time, but oddly, as I was no longer that I, I couldn't recall what I was missing. Imagine one day waking up and looking at a child and being told, this is your child and you should love and be enmeshed with this child, but you don't recognise her. Today, the amnesia receded a bit. I picked up my brushes, mixed some paint and I worked on a painting and I think it's finished. I have had a shock, a big shock. A shock that rocked my world, my idea of what I knew to be true, what I have held dear and precious for many, many years. So it is no wonder that something shifted and I resorted to living on the surface, surviving, taking it slow as I tried to bring myself and my understanding back into alignment. I never knew that painting was something that lived beneath the surface, that it could sink so deeply out of sight, when in fact I probably needed it to remind myself of what and who I am. Maybe I am just not honest enough as an artist, that I couldn't bring myself to really paint how I felt. I hope this changes. But this work, "When your love seeks another" touches that raw nerve, probably too quietly but I'll be gentle, it's who I am. Or have been conditioned to be.
When Your Love Seeks Another, Saren Dobkins, 2016