About areilly88

https://amandaart.poetry.blog/ My creative expression is fairly diverse, but I think there is a consistent thread which ultimately examines and encourages personal and artistic growth. The engagement with different art forms keeps me interested and in evolution. I hope my efforts will be meaningful for you too.

Wish You Were Here

16×20 acrylic on repurposed canvas

There is a story about this painting, but I’m not quite ready to tell it. Or maybe I just don’t know how to tell it well, so I’ll let the image stand as it is. I’m also aware that the story about this painting is unfinished, perhaps the reason it can’t yet be shared. Which got me thinking about our stories more generally. When and with whom we choose to tell them. And how we manage the ending…

I welcome your thoughts ❤

The Sun Also Rises

16×20, acrylic and latex on repurposed canvas

I’ve toyed with the idea of increasing the color saturation in parts of this painting, particularly in the middle section. I may ultimately do that, if for no other reason than to push the growth-edge of my technical painting development. On the other hand, separate from my visual preferences for contrast and color, this painting – exactly as it is now – captures something about my experience. Maybe yours too? For me, the colorful, muted light of sunrise reflects both the joy of possibility (hope) and the tentative pause (fear) that often coexists as we begin a new day.

Dreaming of Summer

This winter has been more challenging for so many of us in different and similar ways. Personally, I can see the value in periods of relative isolation and dormancy, but I am also celebrating the change of seasons, balancing my wish to appreciate the present with my intentions to create and welcome the new. The metaphors are rich, but so too are the simple pleasures of being warmed by the sun and noticing the scent and feel of the sea breeze.

Wishing you all well and grateful for the connections here!

In Grief, Love

I started this painting on the afternoon of January 6th, while unbeknownst to me violence was unfolding in the U.S. Capitol. I “finished” it the next morning, moving it out of a much uglier stage. Although I’m not sure I’ve moved it far enough out of “ugliness,” I also know it’s good to sit with it all, that the truth of a moment doesn’t always appear beautiful in the ways we’ve known. And also, that ugliness and beauty are mostly ideas and relative to their context. Art is not always visually appealing; movement doesn’t always feel good. My paintings don’t usually name themselves when they aren’t finished, but this one did, so maybe it is.