|Work Table 9/4/2013|
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I have always been a painter, but not always a practicing painter or even a happy painter.
As a kid I loved drawing, it was a way that I could create my own world. I was the "arty" one, the different one. Kids don't see the world like we adults do. There are no limitations on creativity until someone puts it there-even a small helpful correction from an adult can turn the tide, stifle a thought or stop a direction.
I was trained in watercolor. At the time I detested oil paints. I tried oil, but it was laborious, hard and unforgiving. Watercolor was fluid, fun and lovely.(cue the music) Like a walk on a spring day, but oil was the coldest of hard winters freezing me out. Locking me down, stopping me in my tracks.
Now many years later I am in love again, but this time with oil. Its buttery consistency and wonderful blending capabilities thrill me. And it is patient, dries ever so slowly or at the rate that I determine. When I returned to painting three years ago I knew I wanted to conquer oil painting. My old nemesis.
So I set out to learn. I taught myself. Early attempts...well, not so pretty, but eventually I began to figure it out.
Seems I should I should write something lovely here like: "Oil Painting fulfills me, it inspires me to be a better person or it allows me to express my view of the world".
Well, Okay. But, not really.
Its actually very simple.
I am an Artist. I Create. Painting is just along for the ride.