I was given my great-grandfather’s oil paints when I was twelve. They were the most amazing pigments. Windsor and Newton, but early last century when paints were made with such beauty. Of course, they were really toxic too… but that was back then when people were
spraying their hair daily with CFC propelled glue.
Anyhow, it was the best. When I painted I could get things out of my head and onto the canvas. Things that cluttered in there and I wasn’t allowed to talk about without seeming ridiculous, or things that just didn’t make sense to me.
Painting thesethoughts, it was a meditation where I could reach inside myself and 
put a label to what didn’t make sense to me.
While I haven’t got pictures of all my artwork, here are the canvases have been kept by my parents. These are more than half a lifetime ago teen years, painting in the most extravagan
t oil pigments, not even knowing how I would never be able to buy the like again.
put a label to what didn’t make sense to me.While I haven’t got pictures of all my artwork, here are the canvases have been kept by my parents. These are more than half a lifetime ago teen years, painting in the most extravagan
t oil pigments, not even knowing how I would never be able to buy the like again.
No comments:
Post a Comment