Revisiting old work and finding new inspiration

I've spent a fair bit of time staring at this painting over the last 15 months. Not because I'm fixated with it, but because it's hanging in my living space...and it seems to be in front of me. All. The. Time. When I painted this back in 2007, I was commuting four days a week and at least three hours of my day was spent staring out of a Via Rail window. Those windows were thick triple pane glass, so a fair bit of condensation would form, muddling my view. After 6 years of commuting, those streaks of moisture between me and the landscape were etched into my mind. But this past year, as I reconsidered my painting, I wondered if those linear dribbles of paint could be something more. What if they were letters? A secret code? What hidden message would they share with the viewer?

As I ramped up my rug hooking in preparation for Art on the Street, I suffered a repetitive use injury that forced me to temporarily abandon my tools. But it allowed me to step back from the rug hooking process, grid patterns, and the tireless repetition that is required for any trade or craft.  Repeat, repeat, repeat. All those repetitive motions were both a blessing and a curse. (as I'm sure all housewives from decades before would agree). And then, like magic, I saw a post from my good friend Marc LaFoy. His freshly fired pot, with an incredible glaze pattern and a spark of an idea. The name? 'Shallow waisted Morse code vase'.

Ah-ha, I said to myself. I think I may have stumbled upon something...