Painting something or creating some or other thing, has always filled my need for escaping. Just to clarify my thoughts…the stillness of the moment, the unspoken conversation in a relationship with canvas and oils.
There is really something therapeutic about art. To get lost in something that can be perfectly imperfect. A thousand people can look at the same painting and all see something different.
It is like music, it connects and divides people. Etches stories into history and brings those stories alive.
I almost finished a painting tonight that I started on ages ago, just to find that I just didn’t like it. So I stripped it back and started again. It’s not so much a moment of failure, but another chance to turn it into something I love.
It’s so satisfying, the smell of linseed oil hangs in the air…for now, off to bed, but looking forward to tomorrow 😊