a few years ago, after my tealight-vessel-throwing-on-the-wheel experience, i felt like i still needed to express myself in another medium (other than music). as much as i adored the idea of throwing pots, the cost of the clay and studio time was not in direct proportion to my level of ability; it was time to put that aside till the budget was flush and i could return to the pottery studio without counting pennies. a tealight vessel (ok, there were a couple tealight vessels if you must know) and one lonely bowl were a total joy but it was clearly going to take some good-long-time to get better on that wheel. demi moore (in ghost) made it look easy. it is not.
and so i went to the art supply store and bought a huge canvas. the biggest one they had in stock. the kind with a deep side (1.5″). i brought it downstairs to the workroom and searched around for paint. since i am not well-versed in this area (to say the least) i selected a can of black paint and a can of white paint. both household paints. latex. semi-gloss. i searched around for one of the old brushes i had been using to paint furniture and i set up my “studio”.
day after day i would go downstairs to look at this spot in the basement. i could feel my excitement gathering. i had no idea what i was going to do with this canvas, but it was ready for me. until one day, indeed, i was ready.
i stood before the canvas and began to paint. i brushed on paint. i threw paint. i spattered paint. i painted over paint. time fell away and i kept painting. i’d walk away and let it dry and then return (this doesn’t take very long with household latex…long enough to pour another cup of coffee or glass of wine) and i’d paint some more. i’d stand back and i could see what it needed (at least what my eye said it needed.)
and then, i knew. it was time to stop. i didn’t know where it was going, but i did know when it was time to stop.
now, i can’t say if the cost of the canvas and studio time were in direct proportion to my level of ability, but i can say they were way less than what my heart felt. these moments, gathered together, a storm of inspiration, fed me.
this painting hangs in the hall in our house. when i sent a photo of it to a friend of mine right after i was done, scordskiii wrote back to ask whose work it was. i told him it was mine, laughing and apologizing for it. he was appalled by my apology and made me promise not to apologize again. so now there are a few more in the living room. arriving after these paintings all had their dedicated spots on the walls of what-is-now-our-home, david, the real painter in our house, said he loves them. i’m always invested in real art made by real people, regardless of the genre, so i love them too. not necessarily because of what they look like. but because of what they made (and make) me feel.
inspiration is a gathering storm ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood