Right now I'm working on the two central icons for our iconostasis. From the waist, they are both about the height and width of an average person.
A year ago, as I was working on the Platytera for the altar, people would ask me how large the icon was going to be. I would stretch out my arms with the elbows a little away from my waist (her same pose) and that was how I would describe the width of the image. This is because I would occasionally lay my hands on hers when I would paint. I don't know why, but even when I was working with an incomplete image, it was a powerful feeling.
Last night as I was painting on the icon of Christ, I rested my hand on His hand as I leaned forward to paint something on His shoulder. As I pulled away I looked at my hand. I had curious feeling, similar to what I had with the Platytera, but something more: like I was involved in painting an icon that was already made, but was waiting for me to finish.
A year ago, as I was working on the Platytera for the altar, people would ask me how large the icon was going to be. I would stretch out my arms with the elbows a little away from my waist (her same pose) and that was how I would describe the width of the image. This is because I would occasionally lay my hands on hers when I would paint. I don't know why, but even when I was working with an incomplete image, it was a powerful feeling.
Last night as I was painting on the icon of Christ, I rested my hand on His hand as I leaned forward to paint something on His shoulder. As I pulled away I looked at my hand. I had curious feeling, similar to what I had with the Platytera, but something more: like I was involved in painting an icon that was already made, but was waiting for me to finish.
