Lea Blankinship, Fine Artist

Lea Blankinship paints, writes and tells enchanting stories. 

She began creating insightful and humorous pieces as a little girl, many standing the tests of time, today.

Her love of design began then too;  rearranging rooms and carving paths in the neighborhood park to create more peaceful settings & scenes.

Her bachelors degree in journalism, earned by sheared focus, gigs in: fine dining, ghostwriting, news rooms & ballooning,  contribute to her dynamic delivery and approach.

A Story True

 Lea designed a corporate office space so inviting for a builder and his guests, it was eventually broken into and burgled!

True

They stole only the gorgeous pair of brass lamps and the round custom-made tufted ottoman, which anchored the handsome "deal-making" corner (complete with scotch, glassware, ice-bucket-brass, with tongs), in his suite.

 No record of the scotch activity before or during the burglary. After the heist the next morning, who knows...it was there for purpose.

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This privately collected painting tells the story of someone who worked for "the man" and almost died.  Her throat tightened minute by minute, as she was tangled by  "the man", and his minions, every single day.  She was so weary from the waltz of wounds, she began to stutter and shake. One day as his First Mate held the crew at bay, 

"The Captain" began another tirade against his tender audience of one. 

She was berated, bound and tossed into the sea.  

And...

miracles happened.  Ropes fell from her ankles and wrists. She drifted and was drawn to the floor by Seahorses and Starfish who healed  with smiles in their swim.  They toured reefs and valleys and when she pushed from the bottom and breathed bubbles, like a mermaid to the top, she laughed in glee! She was free, dodging  flaming arrows piercing the thirsty sea.  The archers grimaced as they missed her every move.

Then they cheered.
Noticing spiraling black fins, circling her, she froze.  

Her heart beat like thunder. A dolphin arose and dove over the points of black. He tipped his fin to which she reached and climbed onto his shimmering, smooth, silver back. They raced over the circle and sea, through splashing waves to a soft, sandy shore.  

 Welcomed with bright eyes, pretty song, and billowy robe,

she was ushered to a chair where a banquet appeared, wine poured and candles lit aglow.  

She stopped shaking. 

Handed palette and pen, she listened and watched while stories flowed and glasses clinked.  As the moonlit, midnight sea suddenly brought something  crashing to its edge, she focused intently.  He was shivering and crouched, coughing to catch his breath.  He met her eye and began to cry.  The "man", the former "Captain",  was shaking in breaking bubbles,  lost in the surf.

 Slowly, she walked closer, and while handing him a towel,  invited  him to dine.