dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .
What was getting to me was the sense that I was being manipulated, that someone else was controlling my attention. I’d login with seeming innocent intentions — to see what friends were up to, or if anyone appreciated what I’d shared — and plan to spend just a couple...
{ part 2 ~ why my new year began the last monday of january } So what do you do after standing in a Museum before the altar of a magnificent Monet and you are just bursting with desire to be outside, be in the land, be bathed in color, be one with paintbrush and...
The first three weeks of the New Year I had been up to my eyeballs in office work — the soul-sucking mind-numbing numbers-crunching paper-cut-inducing head-banging end-of-year secretarial & administrative chores required of being a self-employed sole-proprietor...
Last week at this time I was sipping coffee while looking out across the early morning light glittering off a tributary of the Potomac River. I’d gone east to the land of water and trees to visit again the home of a beloved elder, who offered my spirit sustenance and...
A few days ago I released to the world my latest creative project. I put it out there not knowing if anyone would be interested. That’s the scariest thing about being an artist: Putting your very soul into something you’ve made and not knowing whether it will be...