The Driving Project

There was a time when I viewed my life through migraines. In the early dawn and late, evenings I drove around two hundred miles a week, back and forth between my home in Sacramento and the Bay Area.  As I drove the migraines would vary in intensity.

 

I seem always destined to drive in the direction of the sun. The light and color haze that I saw through was quite beautiful, in spite of the discomfort. Golden days were best–everything washed in golden light as if the heavens are smiling.  White, gold, pink, orange; a light that soothes as the blue hurts.  I love pink more than any adult should; it gives me a chance to rest.

 

I prefer to work in petite formats because I find the idea of a small, vibrant glimpse of a moment to be more compelling than a larger monumental landscape. I paint during migraines and without, creating two different styles linked together with the medium of watercolor.  Watercolor does not allow for correction, only recreation, and rediscovery; working in such a way preserves my initial movement or reaction in the moment.  I cannot alter my first stimulus response.   In spite of the pain, I felt as though I traveled through a different world, and the light and color haze that I saw through was quite resplendent.

The migraines are less frequent now, but I remember them vividly and still find myself documenting my travels through that filter.