Riding the waves of fear
Riding the waves of fear, by Cath Duncan. 2024. Acrylic paint on wood panel.
Description
While I often use creativity to work through the things I find difficult, I don’t often paint about the difficult stuff in my life. Well, not paintings I’d be happy to sell. But this painting that I’ve titled, “Riding the waves of fear” is an exception.
As someone living with chronic illnesses and disabilities, fear is a close companion. The successful kidney transplant that I received in 2015 means I’m immunosuppressed for life. So, while I’ve regained a lot of my general wellness since my transplant, I’m now significantly more vulnerable in the face of all illnesses, even the everyday endemic viruses. My post-transplant medications also raise my risk of developing cancers, dementia, diabetes, osteoporosis, and more, and there’s always a risk that my body will reject the new kidney.
And there’s no way to know how much more time I have with the little vision and hearing that I have left.
I don’t dwell on the threat of these vulnerabilities and the very real risks that I may lose more of who I am and what I can do, but it’s almost always there.
Doing the things I love, like walking, cycling, running, and swimming in nature, creating art, and connecting with people I love helps me to draw closer to feelings of resilience, belonging, and vitality. And that helps me to stay anchored to what’s most important to me so I can ride the waves of fear instead of being flattened by them when the storms roll in.
When I created this painting, I started with no plan except for the limited black and white colour palette. Working intuitively can feel scary because it means not knowing what my next steps will be or how I’ll pull it together and resolve it as a finished artwork. Indeed, not even knowing whether I’ll be able to resolve it as a successful artwork!
Creating abstract artworks also means that I don’t know what the shapes and forms I’m creating are and I have no reference image to observe and copy. Instead I’m making it all up and I don’t even know what I’m making up. Just like with many other areas of my life, this creative process can feel vulnerable and scary. It asks me to embrace all of the uncertainty, ambiguity, and fear, set aside any concerns about whether it’ll all work out okay, and be courageous and trust and play. Perhaps that’s why I’m increasingly drawn to working in this way!
Original artwork
This original artwork’s dimensions are 30.5 x 30.5cm (12 x 12 inches). It was created using acrylic paint on wood panel.
This artwork is SOLD.