Out of the Gutter Art

Tag: love

  • *UPDATE*Hello Fellow Fellows of Art

    *UPDATE*Hello Fellow Fellows of Art

    The Water Plant (sold) ©SusanTMartin2019

    ******To all my dear friends who were worrying about me, I am doing fine and I did have a Covid test 4 days after I first felt sick, and it came out negative! So, yay, for that, and yay for feeling so much better! I hope this finds you all doing well, coping with the turmoil around us by creating beautiful, strange and titillating works of art, in whatever manner your little hearts desire! (As long as no injury on any other living thing is involved!) I find that my art allows me to travel far beyond the confines of my tiny abode, far beyond the paltry and ordinary lives of the teeming hordes of addicts and vagabonds outside my door, far beyond the lunatic fringe…to a place so grand and majestic that even now-this very instant-I am transported to a wonderland, a vista of imagine-able delight. My imagination, my wonderland…show me, tell me, dance me…your vision!*****

    Undercurrents by Susan Todd Martin

    I have left you all hanging for a long time, and we were getting along famously… I hope we can again. I have been coping with some major health issues. An awful fall this past Monday night, a night in the hospital. Diagnosed with a ‘Wrenched Neck” which the Dr commented, ” You are the only person I’ve ever met whose neck is in worse shape than mine”. He had 3 levels fused at John’s Hopkins, I’m 3-7 at St. Lucie Med. Center.

    Passed On©STMartin2010

    He said I absolutely did the right thing calling the ambulance, the blow to the head and terrible twist of my neck could have been life threatening.

    So there’s that.

    Then, to add insult to near death experience, I contracted what I think may be Covid. It started Wednesday and has been beating me senseless ever since. Not like any flu, much more pain and headache, dizziness, stomach pain and toilet issues, terrible tiredness, bone aches, muscle spasms…I could go on but why? I’m not going to die, I had both shots thank God.

    The Insomniac’s Dream by STodd Martin2021

    I can definitely see how this could kill someone if the got the full on version. It has me whimpering. Its Sunday and my fever is down, and no funny smell in my nose or taste in my mouth. That was the first symptom, but it didn’t occur to me right away. I thought the neighbor was burning something, or I had a short somewhere. Then I had an awful taste in my mouth, nothing tasted right. Not even things I like.

    That’s what cinched it for me, right before a truck hit me…of course it was Friday night when I was at the peak of whatever this is. And CDC advice said don’t go to hospital if you can get better at home. I took my phones to bed with me so I could call 911.

    Even wrote a goodbye letter… Crazy, huh?

    Chalk Painting, just for fun, on my driveway.8/3/2021

    Gotta rest now. I’ll call my Doc and get tested tomorrow. Later…

  • Chicken? or Pig? Just Flesh, please…

    Chicken? or Pig? Just Flesh, please…

    “What’s the Deal? Am I a Coward?”

    Where does it Hurt? Unmasking,©SusanTMartin2021W/P

    Commitment to put out my best work…not just work. To push my limits, expand my thought processes…remove boundaries.

    Flashback 937 ©SusanTMartin2017

    I was reading Eric Wayne’s blog , @artofericwayne.com, and he focused a piece on the fine art of Suzzan Blac. (I will refer you to his article and won’t share her work here.) Holy Toledo. The things I allude to in some of my biographical work, the fact that I thought I was being so brave…no. This artist lays it bare…flays it bare.

    She nails the darkest emotions that creep into my nightmares, 50 years after the events. Nothing held back. I admire this work, even if I look at it in secret, as if it’s evil perps can see me, too. As if others can tell that the abuse made me want to hurt someone just like I was hurt. That is the most disgusting part to me, the stain on my soul. That’s the painful truth that I thought my God could never forgive me for…the filthy truth that kept me out in the cold sticking needles in my flesh just to forget for a few minutes…kept me out there for 23 years. I wanted to die, just like I want to kill the perps she pictures so perfectly…

    The Inheritance of Daughter’s ©SusanTMartin2018

    I can’t say I love her work, or even like it, it feels too real to me. It makes me respond like the people I have told my experiences to; that half smile and and nod of understanding while their eyes glaze over with fear and a sort of loathing…like my very words are getting dirt on them. Suzzan is courageous in that she can look her demons in the eye and paint them. Nailing their guilt to the canvas forever. But her pain, her brokenness is palpable and forever on display for both victims and sick minds to see.

    • That Day, Acrylic and embellishment on canvas, Susan T. Martin, 2016
    • Angry Daughter by Susan T Martin
    • Isolationism ©SusanTMartin
    • Reaching Out, Acrylic on Canvas, Beginning Stages, Susan T. Martin 2017
    • “Visionaria”©SusanTMartin2018
    • The Sentinel’s Prayer , stage II,©SusanTMartin
    • The Duck Hunt ©SusanTMartin

    I can’t look too long, and perhaps I should not look at all, for my own sanity. I recognize her need to paint her experiences. I have to also, to get the emotions out and onto the page, onto the canvas where they can’t rip me up inside, at least for a little while. I do this to heal, to repair my damaged psyche until my God repairs me permanently.

    • Inside Voice
    • Cant Quiet Down
    • The Rummage Sale w/p ©Susan T Martin

    I hope that she can find some respite for her pain, too.

    2018 Insights II WINNING Entry! ” Crossing the Delaware, Well Aware”©SusanTMartin2018 in the Permanent Collection of The Ryan Licht Sang Bipolar Foundation

  • I Am Grateful

    I Am Grateful

    I started out whiney today…but I was readjusted…

    It’s so easy to forget how far I have come in my Art journey. I wish I could say that I remember to count my blessings everyday, but today, for most of the morning, I was not grateful at all. The things that were inflringing on my serenity seemed so monumental at the time, and I was vocal about it.

    National Park Land, ©SusanTMartin

    The venue didn’t do this, didn’t do that…didn’t recognize HRH Martin, basically…yet I claimed the day before that I was just happy to make my seahorse/mermaid sculpture, and did not care if I won.

    , SI did have legitimate gripes, the primary one being no tent, no shade, no respite from the blazing sun. It was their first rodeo and the poor organizer lady had a zillion things to do, and I believe she tried to snag me a tent. But I completely had a meltdown, and even Mer Sea was starting to lose her cool cause I used a lot of hot glue as fasteners. Not bad tho…

    I’ve carried her in and out of the house and car about 6 or 7 times so far, she’s held it together admirably! Better than me! As I was fretting a lovely young man appeared on a bike and parked it right behind me on the beach. He P I ioo up was there to take his daily swim and clear his mind. Did I say he was beautiful? Well, we struck up a conversation about gratitude, and mindfulness and he reminded be to breath. To look around at the ocean, put my toes in the water. To feel the love of God in the wonders of creation. To be in the present, fully aware.

    So I did. And I felt better instantly.. Up