Here’s a short excerpt from a recent writing assignment. I attempt to capture what it’s like for me to paint!
Painting has been my salvation during these uncertain times. I crave the precious moments of being lost in the lusciousness of color, of playing with form and formlessness, creating abstract shapes and lines. Bold brush strokes contrast splashes thrown giddily onto canvas. Twenty something paintings are spread out across the floor, all clamoring to be next. I grab one and place it on the easel, standing on a large dropcloth under the stairs. There is a soft glow from the skylight two floors above. My red striped apron is thick with dried paint that matches the splatters of color on my pants. A small brush sits on the ledge of the easel, wet paint on the bristles glistening in the sunlight. Happiness flows through me as I pick up a brush and put color to canvas.