The Weirdest Winter
In my previous post, I explained my impetus for painting (having never taken any classes or had any formal training in it). That was in the middle of November. Three months later and I've just had my first show at a local gallery. Right timing, right circumstances, right people to know, and my desire to try something different...that's really how it all came about. The painting remains therapeutic. Primal, even, where I am simply obeying an internal instinct that says "this color here" or "this shaping there." Some have turned out pretty good (in my personal opinion); plenty of others have turned out to be hot garbage, which I then repurpose into a new painting with new features and traits. Each layer of color reveals something new about the final product and I rarely ever know what it will look like when I'm done, which I very much enjoy. Much like in writing, I find that the best work I do is the work that surprises me when I'm creating it. If I a...