Monday, January 7, 2008

Self-Portrait


I keep remembering that lady saying painting is dead and maybe she's right, but I paint and I'll keep painting until I'm sick of it. And here is anther weird thing. Sometimes I feel like I wish I'd kept every painting I've ever painted. Then I could have a big giant exhibit of my work. That seems like fun, but maybe not. Where do I store them? In stacks in the spare bedroom? Maybe I'm just making more junk to fill up the landfills. Today's painting is 16" x 20" on stretched canvas. I was a stained glass artist for a number of years and then I used to like making elaborate beaded lampshades. After that I did some artsy upholstered furniture and I went to garage sales and junk shops hung junk all over my old farmhouse walls in Oregon. Now I paint because it's noisy and messy and I can dance with the paint. Does that make any sense to anyone? Does anyone give a shit? Is anyone out there? Does anyone want to give me my paintings back? 16" x 20" oil on stretched canvas. Ready to hang.

1 comment:

Jennifer said...

I give a shit. Do you give a shit that I give a shit?

I have an agreement with those whose paintings I've purchased: I don't lock my doors, stop by to see your babies any time. Open adoption is only fair, after all.

Painting will not die any time soon.

If you need proof, wiki "graffiti." Who knew ancient graffiti could be found at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem? I never would have thought it, but there it is, whether you choose to call it art or vandalism.

Painting will die when the impetus dies, and I can't imagine anything short of the annihilation of the planet ending the impetus to paint.

Chin up, already. I need to get to February!