So painting. I haven't painted in YEARS. Maybe a tiny thing here and there, painfully excreted, but not real sitting down and "lovin' every minute of it" painting. Maybe it's the therapy, maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's both, whatever, I've been painting and really enjoying it. It clicked all of a sudden: I can draw a face and paint it in and I don't need a reason or a point other than I love doing it. So hah!
Some work out, some don't. The ones that don't, I chuck in the garbage and keep on truckin'. I couldn't care less because I feel like I have about a million in me. Who needs to write stories or illustrate events, really, I can say everything I want to with faces.
1 comment:
Holy crap these are frickin' awesome.
Frick! Awesome! Holy crap!
Ooh it's true, no need for narratives or politics or post-structuralism or snooty high-mindedness. Say it with faces. It's all there, and then some.
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