what i was thinking about in portland oregon a month ago

the geminsides
illustrating my body as it feels
accepting that in a physical sense there is no light inside my body, trying to comprehend that these things and systems i think about all the time are never in direct light, have colors that are never visible, function without ever being seen (why can't i get my head around that?)
drawing things squeezing out of my pores (everything i'm thinking about and feeling)
my body squeezing out gunk and magic

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a painting of me
a square cut out where my heart is
a tiny blue tea cup placed in that area on a shelf
spilling out dust and glitter
tiny blue and red (paper or ceramic?) birds flying out of there
(jealousy)

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a portrait of me
with my hands over my abdomen
pulling out green slime, cords of dark green rope
a 3 d coffee cup on my bedstand overflowing with it
(anxiety)

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two bodies
one with an internal turmoil, opacity and transparency (like layers of wax paper) showing different things going on inside, many colors
one with a similar but more ferocious and tumultuous scene inside
the second one is speaking and the sea is spilling out
(this is a triptych, or some form of panels)
-
next panel the sea is spilling out onto the first body who is lying on the bed
it is entering her bones
she is not speaking
how can she respond other than taking it into her own body? how else can she comprehend the depth than taking it deep inside?
it hurts to feel it but feeling it is the only option, as long as it doesn't wash her away
-
but now her muscles are made of lead. her bones are heavy. she is too weak to even move her face muscles into a smile. her own internal space is cloudy and is veiled by the storm.
-
that was the end of the triptych. the rest are not panels but quite a few drawings
one woman is flicking a trickle of it off of her elbow
one woman's feet are touching the ground. some travels her circulatory system, some seeps out through her feet
one woman, at her side is making a curved open palm, a nest, an entry, a cove, a safe space to nestle for a moment on its journey. it goes here and no further. a shadow drawing of white dots shows her tenderly letting it out the window, blowing it off of her hands.
one woman has a thin line of turquoise around her whole body. silver and black dots and lines are drawn to her, covering her, but don't penetrate beyond the turquoise. in her palm she holds a stone, they move from her protected body into the stone. she puts it on the shelf, or in a box, or in the park.

two are approaching. the space is symmetrical. one carries behind it a whirling storm of colors black red silver deep purple rose skulls and birds. the other carries a momentuous force of colors turquoise, gold, magenta pale yellow silver (?) prisms and crystals. in the middle is one crystallized shape, which their fingers touch. projecting upward, more gently, something new i don't know what


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i wish i had bought these prints when i was there but i didn't have any money. i love betsy walton's art, i feel so connected to this aesthetic, i want to jump in there!!