I know I haven't been around to all of your blogs leaving comments as frequently as I used to, but I have been lurking around a bit.
Sometimes I just have to withdraw myself a bit and this has been one of those times. I've had so many projects going on since I've been without a job. I swear I think I work harder now than I did then. In the midst of rearranging closets, pulling up carpet and stripping down baseboards, I was struck with the need to paint.
It's my escape. It's my therapy. My release.
It's good for my soul. It's good for my stability. I just wish it was good for my bank account!
With all the wars going on these days, and religious ideology behind them, with the situation with my own parents and their decent into zealotry and fundamentalism, the topic of organized religion is never far from my thoughts. Now before you go getting your self all up in a tissy, let me say I don't have a problem with religion. If that's your thing, good for you. People need something to believe in. I get it. But this pumped up, charismatic, narrow minded view of my god is better than your god just kills me. And to be honest, I believe it's going to kill all of us.
Anyways, a while back, I wrote a poem called Religion on Steroids. Since then, this painting has been trying to work its way out of me. I've started it, scrapped it and abandoned it, only to come back again and again with new approaches each time. This version is still in it's tiny little zygote stage, not quite developed and not nearly finished, but so far, I think I'm feeling it.
The phone ring, ring, rings,
and I ignore the incessant tone
of Patriarchy submerged in Zealotry:
Religion on steroids, I muse
Closing my eyes, I imagine ignorance
Feeling its warm embrace
for too brief a moment...
In a flash, its gone with the ring, ring, ring
of technology's death to privacy
Bringing me back again
To the persistant realization
that you are no longer the parents
I once knew.
Angela J. Schleicher © 2008