Earth Goddess Healing, body painting photo shoot

Back in September I managed to squeeze one more Earth Goddess body painting in before the season got cold and altogether not conducive for body art modeling and photography. And it was my first and probably only couple's photoshoot that I will be including in my series.


(Work in progress shot, painting Kelly.) Also, please read the blog entry she wrote, reflecting upon what it was like participating in my body art series as well as her thoughts and feelings about body image and learning to love the skin your in.


(work in progress shot, painting Sam)

My friends Kelly and Sam have been through something remarkable together. If you spend anytime with them, the way they are around each other, the way they speak, laugh and feel would make it plain as day that they are strong and more importantly, made stronger by their love of one another and the life they chose together.

When Kelly was diagnosed with cancer her life and the life of her wife, Sam, began to change.



They are still on a journey of healing and I was honored to momentarily step in and take part when they asked if they could be painted and photographed together for my Earth Goddess series to commemorate the end of Kelly's chemo treatment.



I think that these photos do catch a glimmer of their experience, and their exuberance for eachother  but I feel they also speak about the condition of Mother Earth.  I often feel that the prevalence of cancer and the many other diseases plaguing mankind can also be seen reflected by the condition of the Earth as it battles to remain balanced in the face of pollution, deforestation, genetic modification and more. Many people believe that the Earth is too big to fail, that our actions are insignificant to the planet's health but there is plenty of evidence that begs to differ.
As above so below.



And all I know is, the path of healing is most effective when loving, helping hands are there to lend support. In these photos I can glimpse Mother Earth's own journey towards healing, which of course is guided by her lovers, her protectors.

And so must it be.

With Love and Light,
-Chelsea Rose 

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The Last Mermaid new original acrylic painting

Meet my newest acrylic painting:

The Last Mermaid

36"x48"

original acrylic painting on canvas

by Chelsea Rose 

 Its my first painting that features an obvious reference to death. While I was not aiming to create a melancholy piece, I was exploring "tender aches" that present themselves during times of loss. The loss represented here could be a metaphor for a loved one passing, or a loss of belief or even a loss or dyeing out of tradition, tale, dream or magic.

 If you look closely, the pink figure holds the mermaid close, her head bent to the side, the corner of her lip turning up in a subtle smile. I was hoping to capture a calm warmth in her features that spoke of the sweetness of love, honor and remembrance. I placed the mermaid and her mourner amidst a cityscape, hinting at the possibility the mermaid could no longer survive within the modern day Babylonian way of life. Perhaps her death can be attribuated to pollution by the city, or perhaps the city's simple lack of belief in her existence.  

Anyhoo, those are some of my personal intentions, or perceptions of the painting. I invite the viewer to read the image in any way they wish, eyes unclouded by my own musings! 

Now, on to the creative process! I did a fairly good job at documenting the creation of this painting so I thought it would be interesting to share with you. 

It all began with a drawing in my sketchbook: 

I drew this concept sketch over 4 months ago! I used a mix of india ink pens and paint pens as well as some watered down acrylic paint.

I finally made up my mind to paint the concept, thus I started the painting in early April.

By April 15th I had everything roughed out in a the first layer of color.

Now I started to add another layer of color for skin, refining the design by adding highlights in the forms while using black to explore the details of eyes, hair, face and costume.

By May I had begun more work on the background cityscape, adding details like streetlights and a bridge.

Here is a compare and contrast comp I made. The top is before, the bottom is after. I added another layer of color, highlight and shadow to the skin of both figures. I also made some changes to the corset and skirt design of the pink one. I changed up the hair colors of the mermaid as well. In the background you can see before, and after the addition of the bridge and a second closer layering of buildings.

Here is a studio snapshot of the painting in its "work in progress" state.

And this photo was taken this past weekend, June 21st. You can see I added some drastic changes to the sky, with many pulsating orbs, somewhat akin to "Starry Night", as well as the final layer of color, highlight and shadow on the main figures. And that was that!

I am excited to debut her during my solo show at Future shock in September!  I will be offering prints in my etsy shop as well, so keep an eye out for them!

I hope you enjoy the finished piece, and found it interesting to see it's process of creation.

Thanks for the support!

With love,
-Chelsea Rose 

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I won a heart! A true history about my love affair with art.

Look what I won! Look what I won!

Its a hand knit, embroidered and beaded heart charm stuffed full of good vibrations and witchy woman herbs made by my friend Michelle Simpkins AKA Greenwoman.
How did I win it? I entered into a writing contest Michelle was holding on her blog. To win I wrote and submitted a piece of writing about my love for my "vocational calling", art!
This is what I wrote:

For the most part art and love have been interchangeable labels to a single powerful force that’s continuously shaped my life. I know art had its influence over me before I was even born. Looking on the photos I have in my possession I feel as though I can almost recollect my mother down at the Venice Beach, CA boardwalk, her pregnant belly slightly altering the way she held her guitar on the streets as she played and sang the blues with her band. I can imagine the way the vibrations of her guitar penetrated her flesh to reach my budding form and how I must have danced in womb to the rhythms of her strumming and the glowing of her soul as she manifested her art.

I was told that when I was no older than a few months, just big enough to sit in a high chair my mother would put a pencil in my hand and lay a paper on my tray and watch as I sat mesmerized for hours as my little hand created mark after mark on the paper. I am sure I was held captivated by these first few acts of creation, no matter how small of a squiggle they were because even back then I must have understood in some instinctual way that the marks were an exciting proof of my own existence and the existence of self made magic. This might have been the way I learned love for myself, life and the world around me.

As I grew up I was surrounded by an eclectic mix of artist protectors who were also my mentors. Every day was Christmas in Venice beach, the home of my little world of worlds. I remember being constantly gifted presents of art supplies. Even though we didn’t have much money the means to do art was never obstructed. Art supplies was fished out of a dumpster just for me by Ralph the bum and delivered on my doorstep in the middle of the night with great care and ceremony, the half used nubs of the legendary Sunny Zorro’s oil pastels were routinely set aside and sealed in a cigar box just for me, and then there were the days I was gifted lessons of life and art by Chris Eve’s the wise kindly English painter man who also spoke of faery lore and the truth about Daddy Longlegs and their gentle nature. I was doted upon and cared for in this way by many, the exchange of art supplies and knowledge one and the same with their gift of love and devotion.

Later on, in years of upheaval and transformation there were times I felt like life’s magic had been washed out or left behind. Finding myself lost in new places with different customs and bizarre senses of community lead me to begin to consider myself a stranger. That sense of self love and love of life that I had known throughout my younger years, even in times of severe adversity, had begun to fade. It wasn’t until I caught myself one day feverishly typing out a stream of consciousness prose instead of writing an English essay for high school that I finally began a dialogue with a part of myself I had feared lost. This communication lead me to the realization that one major part of my life was missing and that was the art. The moment I began to allow myself to paint, to draw, to write poetry again I felt that love seep back into my veins and slowly light up my world once again.

To this day I use art as a life line, an anchor. Art is the great balancer of my life. I take vast comfort in the knowledge that I can make anywhere a healthy home so long as I bring my love, my art within me. I use art as a way to continue the exploration of myself and my place in the world. I use it as a way to explore folk lore, the human condition, and the intentions of the cosmos, my roots, my ancestors and their very real connection to the modern world, the person I am constantly becoming. I post my art online, show it in local art fairs and galleries and in this way I mean to share my manifestations of love, coxing my art out into the universe in hopes that they might touch an international, multi universal or maybe even a multi dimensional audience and have its small part in the knitting together of a great encompassing community. Art is where the heart is. So mote it be.
----

Writing the words above a couple weeks ago made me feel very thankful to the universe. I am so spoiled! But yes, very happy to love the life I lead and lead the life I love.
I cant wait to get my heart charm in the mail!

In other news, this past weekend me and the little helper elves of Lucid Optic Lab have been super busy crafting art you can wear! Thats right, I have found a way to put my artwork into glass pendants and will be releasing a line of art necklaces in our etsy shop in the next few days, so keep your eyes pealed.

Much love and light,
-Chelsea Rose
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Eternal Canvas a short story by Chelsea Rose

Happy Friday all.
For the first time on my blog I am going to share a short fiction story I wrote.
I am particpating in a fiction writing party a friend of mine holds once a month on her blog. The offical blog party begins on Sunday but seeing that i beleive i wont have much time to access the computer over the weekend i figured i would go ahead and post it today. Anyhoo, for those who enjoy reading please feel free and do let me know your thoughts!
Speical thanks to my writing buddies Sara and Michelle for making a few much needed swipes through with their red markers. Much love!

"Eternal Canvas"
a short fiction story by Chelsea Rose Rippel

Tattered sleeves whisked wildly as the fringed and ragged hair of the paint brush swirled its color leaving a torrential vomit of rainbow in its wake. The canvas was shadowed here and there by a looming figure so alive with energy the room radiated and glowed in the strange wafting warmth emitted. Yes, there she stood, her head cocked ever so to the right, pale lips parted, blood shot eyes intent yet soft focused on the canvas as she watched in her own fevered way the delicate bones, joints and sinuses of her hand weave strange and wondrous worlds. Each of her smoldering paint strokes focused the inexplicable webbing of truth that gathered at times like these as buds of daggered lightning, alighting from somewhere above, or was it in-between? It had always funneled this way, where ever it came from, straight into that whirling vein of energy that taped deep into the membrane of her crown. These spasms were impossible to ignore as they punctured and reverberated deep within that mysterious gland, always resting in its nest of brain matter, cozy in its den smack dab in the middle of her forehead, the location of what the ancient shamans deemed The Third Eye...

She paused, dropping the paint brush to free her hand so that she might press her finger tips to the throbbing ember that was her cranium. She had turned away from her work and all at once the spell was broken; she had been granted a reprieve. There yes, she rubbed the ache there, in-between the eyes, kneading it to milk the tension away only to find that the burning was contagious and had slowly flushed her entire system with spasms of feeling. Within that split second she became all too aware of bodily needs. The pain was more than severe so her knees buckled and she fell back, away from the easel, away from the varnishes, the glazes, the rags, the paint tubes. She landed in a crumple on her futon mattress, the only other furnishing in the closet sized dwelling.

“What is this? Why is this? What day is it?” her intellect demanded. Her stomach, a hard knot, clenched and burned as if eating its way out of her. She blindly pawed at her body but felt nothing more than a series of lumps that seemed to be horribly brittle and sunken. She wanted to have a look in the mirror but no matter how hard her mind commanded the body to move its only response was a series of shudders- it just shivered in its huddle of bone and flesh on the bed. She laid like that without concept of time, with no other thought in her mind but the concentration needed for each breath taken and released.
--
Sparrow had successfully scavenged enough supplies to last them another month but it had taken longer than usual which added to his growing concern that soon there would be nothing left to salvage. How then would he continue to feed and clothe himself and Dove? He had dreams of seeds, of clean water and warm fertile soil to grow beans, tomatoes, carrots, celery, potato, squash and more. But the only food he had ever known came from a can and even if he had access to seeds the land had been left parched and toxic years before he had entered the world. And still, Sparrow had more immediate concerns to deal with. He had been gone for how many weeks? He hoped desperately that Dove had managed to keep away from her painting.

Sparrow’s footsteps were harried and faltering in his rapid efforts to propel himself through oil slicked puddles. As he hurdled through alleyways, fingers of rusted barbed wire clawed at his coat, and he pushed himself harder, jolting through a maze of abandoned buildings. The concrete and steel behemoths were infested with a plethora of strange folks, street urchins, squatters, and who knows what other remnants of the human race—all struggling to survive.

Why was he so worried? He had carefully packed away all her art materials before leaving on his hunt. Dove had promised to do her best to resist the calling she would inevitably feel. It had all started out simply enough, hadn’t it? They had found each other early on before either of them could speak more than a few words. It was a miracle they had come this far alone together, pitted against a self destructive and decaying world. Still, they had endured and Sparrow wasn’t about to give up now, even if their woes had begun to extend far beyond the dangers of the streets out into a great and unnerving mystery.

But it wasn’t all that mysterious if one considered Dove and her habits. She always did have a need to draw. Sparrow had seen her first doing it on concrete, using the end of a burnt piece of wood to furiously mark out spirals, eyes, planets and a great number of other things they had no words for. As they grew together so did their interests and ambitions. Sparrow himself had always been a tinkerer, enjoying the thrill of improvised creation and invention. Dove continued to draw more frequently until she eventually began doing it by impulse no matter the situation.

One day when Sparrow was down scavenging in the lower Warf end of what once was the great city’s epicenter, he came upon the ruins of a school. Anything of value seemed to have already been long since looted or destroyed by the moist and salty costal air. Yet as he had sifted through the rubble, things of color and shape began to catch his eye. Pieces of canvas they were with great swooping lines of jade and indigo making up the form of a hillside green with pasture. The next was drawn out in a frenzy of red scribbles that seemed to magically conjure up a detailed portrait of a young woman naked and posed as if reaching to the stars. There was more of this, much more and so he began to collect piles of these drawings, rolling them up all together as one to take back to Dove.

Sparrow had spun around with an ecstatic spirit, thrilled to run back and present Dove with these gifts, but in his mad dash his foot caught on something hard. Falling forward he broke right through the rotted board of a closet only to reveal a great many storage tubs. With shaking hands he opened each container in awe as he began to see tubes of color, marvelously elegant brushes of all different shapes and jars containing important looking gels and liquids. Sparrow also found a great many pieces of pure white canvas stretched firm and taunt over wooden bars sealed tightly in protective plastic. The newness of it all gleamed and sparkled. He felt he had truly found a treasure trove.

When Sparrow presented the loot to Dove, her face lit up like a lantern, and she gleefully sorted through the tubes of pigment. He helped her set up the easel he had found once he had replaced a few hinges. Sparrow remembers being absolutely astonished at how quickly and with such ease Dove utilized the supplies. No, she had never seen a paint brush or any of the other supplies yet she seemed to instinctively know what to do with each.

This was all less than two months ago and ever since he watched Dove fall into an existence almost akin to slavery. Day in and day out she poured herself into her canvas paintings. If Sparrow was not there to care for her he doubted Dove’s ability to remember to eat or even to relieve herself. Painting had claimed her very existence almost entirely. When he did manage to pull Dove away from her work she seemed dazed, her jaw slack and her large marvelous eyes roving at a loss even when looking upon his face. Sparrow hadn’t a clue what to do, almost preferring the sharp focused and demon driver Dove then the listless, living dead Dove that he was confronted with when he pulled her away from her work.

It was early morning, the sun just beginning to break the steely obsidian skin of the horizon, revealing a harsh and jagged skyline full of building remnants and swirling entities of bonfire smoke. The oddly prehistoric silhouetted forms of burnt out street lamps jutted every stretch of pavement like teeth serving as mocking reminders of a failed and ruined way of life. Their home, the abandoned water tower, was planted in one of the few plots of land void of large forsaken buildings. Sparrow snaked his way through the graveyard of junk that was piled high and deep, past old decomposing car shells, tires, broken furniture, computer equipment, stereos and televisions. The climb up the rusting side ladder to the tower was completed quickly and without thought or fear of the height.

Normally Sparrow would pause once he got up the ladder to the door in order to gaze out on the wasted cityscape. He always felt that while there was a great ugliness present in the world they inhabited, there was also a profound sense of restorative slumber. The world “civilizations” might have toppled under the weight of their own greedy and reckless behavior, but he truly believed the earth itself was lying dormant, healing and waiting for some sign, maybe even someone to inspire her to adorn the globe once more in life eternal. He had to believe in such things otherwise there was nothing left for him and Dove other then rubble and decay. Still, this was not a time for a moment of deep breaths and hopeful dreams. He was frightened and shivering like a hunted rabbit worried about Dove and how she coped with his absence.

When Sparrow opened the door to the tower there was no sign of Dove herself. With a shock and surge of great terror he noticed that the easel was back up and the canvas painting that sat upon it looked to be completed. The tiny bulb of a room the water tower provided for them was filled with a surging glow of every color imaginable all seemingly emitted from the canvas. He fumbled around fighting for the willpower to keep his eyes away from the mesmerizing whirl of sensations in order to search for Dove.

“Sparrow….Here….The Bed….So glad…So glad” Dove gasped, using the minute amount of strength left within her to reach up and caress his hand.

Sparrow’s entire body clenched in horror as he felt Dove’s hand slip into his own. It felt as though he was holding a paper thin bag of bones. He kneeled to cradle her waif thin form, resting his cheek next to her pillow. For some time they lay like this together communicating without words through the locking of their eyes. Dove’s eyes were vast and full of a strangeness Sparrow struggled to identify. Even in her obviously sick and wasted state Dove glowed with an eerie shimmer of potential; her beauty akin to the flowing grace of the sunset filled sky-precious and fleeting. In that moment he knew he couldn’t keep her. Dove was already drifting away, her essence only lingering to gaze the way she was with every grain of her being at him. Dove was smiling as she breathed her last rasping breath.

Yet before Sparrow had time to let a single tear escape something blew like a shockwave filling the tower with a harsh pulsating light so bright he could momentarily see through his own flesh to the curves and contours of his bone. The light continued to surge until all was lost in an endless expanse of white. Sparrow was left alone. Dove’s form disappeared with the rest of his world. Yet in some strange sense it was fitting to him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of a world without Dove.

“So, why am I still here?” Sparrow pleaded, his hoarse cry rippling off into a chorus of echoes, stretching out to eventually lose itself in the great white. And
as if in answer to his plea, Dove’s painting appeared before him, hovering at eye level. For the first time since Dove had begun her masterpiece Sparrow allowed himself to truly behold the painting without the clouds of worry and fear for her well being to dull his senses. It was a thing of mesmerizing beauty, the detail so intrinsic and the colors so alive he swore he could taste them.

Sparrow began to comprehend the subject matter, it was what the art books would label as a landscape yet it was much more than that, so lucid it felt more to him like a waking dream trapped in rectangular form. In the very middle stood their water tower taken over by a wild spiraling of vine boasting a plethora of ultra violet trumpet flowers. The plot of surrounding land was void of the rusting multitude of rubbish, replaced by a smooth even pack of rich chocolate tinted earth. The horizon stretched on and on, the jagged dilapidated buildings that once made up the skyline were gone and replaced here and there by a lacing of misty ever green trees that parted to reveal the tips of the coast that possessed an ocean glowing emerald and gold in the setting sun.

The stark white emptiness of his surroundings compounded the life and promise within the painting that continued to hover like a dream before him. Furthermore, he could feel the essence of Dove radiating off of the painting like the summer sun. Her spirit held him, caressed him and eased him closer to the work of art.

“It’s all done now, Sparrow. Please look after it, care for it. It’s yours.” The voice of his Dove breathed and exuded the words like the most precious of gems and Sparrow smiled joyfully, suddenly aware that she was waiting for him within. Without hesitation Sparrow leaped into the painting, each brush stroke remaking him whole until he stood once more atop their water tower, gazing into the realness of Dove’s great transformation. He scurried down the ladder eagerly kicking off his worn shoes to plant his feet deep into the warm and supple soil. Bittersweet tears of loss and renewal flowed freely down his astonished features as he saw and felt Dove in every drop of life eternal around and within him. And look! There were his tomatoes, and there carrots, squash, cabbage and more.

Sparrow tore his eyes away from the patchwork of his great garden and spied an assortment of confused yet overjoyed huddles of people dotting the landscape here and there as far as his eyes could see. He understood now. Dove. She had done all this. The world he saw, felt and breathed was an exactment of her masterpiece. Dove’s vision was that something, that someone, the catalyst for the forgiveness and return of Gaia, Mother Earth.

Sparrow’s heart sang with inspiration as he began his trek to the nearest group of fellow survivors. He understood that a lot of work was ahead of them and he was full of motivation, savoring thoughts of community, harmony and the return of man to its sacred role of caretaker to the land. And yet Sparrow couldn’t help but wonder just how many worlds man would burn through before The Great Balance was finally actualized.
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Love Thy Self body painting and photography

So I wanted to share what I was up to over the weekend.
I did my 7th body painting and photography shoot for my body art series.
Here are the first 3 images I released over the weekend from the shoot:

Love Thy Self
(body painting and photography by Chelsea Rose
Model: Ana)

I had a wonderful time working and hanging out with Ana.
As she was telling me about herself a heart mysteriously appeared in the middle of her chest which was quite interesting seeing that she had recently been through some heart complications.

Love Thy Self
(body painting and photography by Chelsea Rose
Model: Ana)

I really enjoyed Ana's vibe in these photos. She seems to have a gentle strength to her that is both bewitching and inspirational.



It was a bright sunny day in Portland on Saturday both i think both of us were quite satisfied to be hanging out inside the loft of T.Ruth Art space and creating art. I love this project. I enjoy getting to know my models. I view them as art collaborators. Its fascinating to talk and hear each woman's personal wisdom. I could easily say i learn a thing or two with each woman i work with on this project.

...so thats it for now. i will be posting more photos from the shoot gradually per day for a couple weeks. So far i dont believe i have a photoshoot scheduled for this coming Saturday, so i will be working on trying to book one!

As for Sunday it was a stay at home kind of day. I spent most of the day sitting on the couch drinking tea, watchin movies while drawing with my ink pens atop a bunch of acrylic painted wood that i had prepped on Friday. I will be taking photos of the finished illustrations very soon and they will most probably end up listed in our etsy shop for sale!

Many blessings,
-Chelsea Rose
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Sold my first Painting+ SALE highlights and news

With only one day left before my solo show is taken down I finally sold one of my bigger paintings!

This morning as I was getting ready to get on my bus to work I noticed I had a missed call and voice mail. It turns out it was Tiffany Ruth the gallery owner calling to say that last night a woman walked into the gallery and bought one of my paintings. Apparently the women said for the past 2 months that the show has been up shes been window gazing and was really drawn that that particular piece. I'm so very pleased that she was compelled to buy the painting for herself and its a very exciting thing for me to know that it will be going to someone who will cherish it. So in the end I feel this art opening was a very good thing. Its sparked both mine and Tiffany's fire. She is thrilled that the show was successful, her being a new gallery owner on the scene and all. In the end we sold the piece above and 6 smaller acrylic/pen and ink paintings I did specially for the show. Coolness!
Come Thursday I will be going to the gallery to reclaim my unsold artwork. My goal is to get all of it into various local cafes, boutiques, bars and restaurants because i hardly have room for all of it in my tiny lil apartment and it really doesn't do any good to have them locked away in my lil cave anyway.

Danny designed me some new business cards that match the art portfolio website he made for me( http://www.chelsearoseart.com/ )....and these business cards will hopefully help me accomplish spreading out some of my artwork to the local business.
here is a comp so you can see what they look like:


I am very pleased with the way they turned out. We ordered them the other day so they should arrive in a few weeks.

In the meantime we are still doing our Holiday SALE in our etsy shop
So far we have sold 3 of the same exact thing during this first week of the sale:

the hot seller is: "Love thy Self" 5"x7" print of one of my original pen and ink drawings.
Its interesting that we have sold three of the same in a row...im curious to know what is drawing people to that particular print of mine.
click here to view the listing for this print.

Right now all of my art prints are on SALE!

Original price: $7
Grab them now for the Holidays for only $5
They come sealed in a crystal clear plastic sleeve to keep them safe. My prints are made on archival canson artist card paper( has a similar feel to watercolor paper). Makes a wonderful card, gift or decoration.
....So thats the featured SALE item for today!
Sale will be running through this month so please feel free to take advtanage of the prices!

Much love and best wishes, always!
-Chelsea Rose
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Finished paintings and 50th sale on etsy!

First off, I would like to show some better photographs of my most recent finished paintings.

Posy Nymph
18" x 14"
original acrylic painting
by Chelsea Rose


Wind Spirit
14" x 14"
original acrylic painting
by Chelsea Rose

A big thanks to Danny for photographing my paintings and making them just right with his mad photo retoucher skills! I feel we make a great team.

Also, im excited to announce that we made our 50th sale on etsy last night!

Our 50th sale was one of Danny's newly released 5 color screen print posters:

Laughing Buddha
11" x 14"
hand printed silkscreen poster
by Danny Rodriguez
He only printed 11 and now that the first one sold we only have 10 left.
view the listing or buy it Here

That same person also bought a print of one of my Pen and Ink drawings:

Love they Self
5x7 print
of an original pen and ink drawing
by Chelsea Rose
view the listing or buy it Here

And now for a bit of a rant that comes right from the heart with many many thanks and blessings:

I have been ferociously battling with the truth that sitting in an office building everyday from 8-3 really does my creative spirit a grave injustice. But alas, its currently my means to pay bills and buy food. But still... when I get home I tend to wallow all too much. And now that its getting dark early I find my body trying to hibernate.
So the battle rages on: the temptation to lay my weary bones down and be a drone VS the need to be fruitful and true to self.
I think I am winning over the vile sloth tendencies and I am producing my art work. Its wonderful being partnered with another artist. Danny and I help each other with inspiration. But there are some really truly amazing outside influence that easily jump start our weary artist hands into frantic action. This outside influence is you! You, who ever you are who is reading this blog. You, who enjoy our work enough to support it by buying prints, tie-dye, paintings, screen prints from our little etsy shop. I cant communicate how much the support means to us and perhaps to the world for that matter. In this day and age where so much is mass produced by mega corps. and sold cut throat cheap I feel people who are willing to support hand made art and craft with their hard earned dollars are in truth heroes and freedom fighters. I know this world right now is not set up for small business and hand crafted, local artisan goods but I think there are a great many people out there who are seeking to turn the tides back and set us once again on the right track.

So, thanks again for the support!

Much love,
-Chelsea Rose
Lucid Optic Lab
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