Artist’s Musings

a pair of geese flew by; outside my studio window; i’m glad elephants don’t fly

Changes happen, and time is an illusion

I was only scratching the surface when we had to leave Asheville in 2004 — that is, my potential of becoming an artist. But back then, I felt I was an imposter. But I’m proud of the early paintings and drawings I did in Asheville. They may not be gallery worthy, but they were my best, and I was proud of my accomplishments because they were a personal testimony to my determination to learn and to, well, just do it.

I’m not embarrassed to show my early paintings and drawings to any aspiring artists because I want to convince them that they can do it too. No matter which point you are in your precious existence, there is no better time to begin than now. No one have personally helped me in person on my exploratory journey, but I’ve learned a lot from other experienced artists, and so I would not declare myself a self-taught artist because I feel that everyone is always learning something from someone else. Including the master artists! No one is an island.

On this return visit, I have made six plein air paintings and one “studio” painting. The latter was actually done outside on a porch using a photo as reference displayed on my iPad. How does one keep Dingo still? I left five paintings for Craig who have graciously paid for my airfare and hosted me. When he found out that it was my birthday week, he went out of his way to celebrate my birthday. I was very grateful for his kindness, generosity, and hospitality.


I’m looking forward to soon return home to Asheville, and this time as a more experienced artist then when I had to leave. I’m very excited of the many possibilities — reconnecting with special friends, making new neighbours, making new art, and experiencing new adventures. I do not know when the next chapter will begin, but wherever I go, It’s a beautiful day in the neighbourhood. Because this big blue marble is just one big little neighbourhood. Could we be neighbours?

Fourteen years passed, and my return visit to Asheville was like a time travel into the future, because I remembered Asheville as I have left it in 2004. And for the first time in 14 years, I was experiencing Asheville and the surrounding areas as an artist, an enlightened one. When Craig gave me a tour of the city, I saw changes that seemed to have instantly appeared out of nowhere, but to him the changes were slow. Nothing stays the same, and time is an illusion — our vision, our believes, our styles, our voices. If you’re an artist in Asheville reading this post, could you be my neighbour? I wish we could slow time down. But time is an illusion. Our time is now. Let us paint before our time runs out. Sing it for me, Amy.