Trying to Get into the Club

I can hear Jim Morrison singing, "Break on through to the other side..."  Lord help me, I'm trying.

And then it's too exhausting to try.  

I can only keep on my own path to express what art represents to me.  

Emotions, feelings. 

Blood, guts, striving, deflation, euphoria.  

All of it.  

But sometimes none of it.  

And hoping I'm reaching someone out there.  

Striking a match to feelings.

Trying to Catch a Break

Oh my gosh, what am I going to do?  Fill my house with paintings made by me for me?  I can't help but paint these wacko things.  I crack up over them, and I think, "Jill, you know no one is going to hang this in their living room!"  But you know what, I TOTALLY would!  And I probably will!  Perhaps, though, there's a fellow whacked out soul or two who can chuckle at these things and whose home would be happy to embrace it.  Otherwise, I guess I'll have to start paneling my ceiling with these hilarious (maybe only to me) canvases, because I just can't stop, and quite frankly, I don't want to.  This one is one of my favorites of all time. (-:

Trying to Catch a Break

 

"Here's yer brake pad."

"That's not the break I was hoping to catch!"

 

(Ah, ha, ha, ha!)

Trying to figure it out.

Trying to figure it out.

O.K.  Now this is the type of painting that flows right out of me with ease. 

Strong feelings, strong colors.