I used to paint...a long time ago...a long, long time ago. I was actually pretty good, I had a painting in the Museum of Contemporary Art in Houston. It was a gross painting, one that I only did because my art teacher made me but still for an artist to have a painting in a museum is huge. One of my science teachers actually "stole" a piece of my art because he was certain that someday I would be a "big deal."
So, I did what most stupid teenagers do, I graduated and never painted again. I've tried a few times but I just can't seem to be inspired.
Yesterday I felt like painting, I dug through all my crap in the garage looking for my paint and brushes but I couldn't find them. I did find a pouch with a bunch of old brushes, so old I don't have any idea where they came from. I ended up using printmaking ink for paint since none could be found.
The kids laid down for their naps, Luis was at work and I painted. I sat at the table in silence and just painted whatever came to mind. It's not done yet and I don't know if I will be able to make it into anything good but it was nice having a paintbrush in my hand again.