Growing Beyond the Lines: A Journey Through "Whorled Loosestrife"
Growing up, I was always told to "color inside the lines," a simple piece of advice meant to guide me toward structure and order. But what if I told you that the lines themselves were never the key? My painting, Whorled Loosestrife, which resides in the blue/green artwork gallery, invites you to question this very concept. In my work, I’ve asked: “Lines? What lines?” And you’ll see, they aren’t there. Instead, I’ve created an illusion that suggests lines, but never actually uses them. This, for me, speaks volumes about how lines in art—or life—might not be as essential as we once thought.
This piece is more than just a painting. It’s a study of color, an exploration drawn from my personal "lost x-file." For me, the x-file is not just a forgotten folder of paper; it’s the collection of memories that linger at the edges of consciousness—memories that I both want to forget and yet, often, cannot escape. These recollections, many of them from a turbulent youth, pop back into my mind at unexpected moments, urging me to reevaluate them.
It’s precisely this duality of recollection and forgetting that inspired my journey into painting beyond the lines. Through painting and coloring outside the prescribed borders, I’ve discovered a form of healing. These creative acts became my refuge, helping me to confront and process the traumas I experienced as a young person. It was through this expression that I learned something powerful: that freedom exists beyond the boundaries we are taught to obey. And in that freedom, I began to understand myself more deeply.
With each brushstroke outside the lines, I unlocked a little more of my own freedom. The act of painting became not just an artistic endeavor, but a survival mechanism, a way to heal and redefine who I am. Whorled Loosestrife is a testament to this journey. When I break the boundaries in my art, I find that I also break the walls that once confined me emotionally and mentally. Art has given me an eternal realm of freedom—an ongoing conversation with my past, present, and future.
For me, painting outside the lines is no longer an act of rebellion; it’s a way of surviving. It’s a path to understanding the intricate layers of my identity, and it’s something I carry with me in every piece of art I create. Through this process, I no longer fear what’s outside the lines—I embrace it. And in doing so, I invite you to join me in this exploration of what happens when we let go of the lines and simply paint our truth.
Peace and love. Russ Myers