I painted today. I decided to try out a new technique involving, water, oil and a blank canvas. I never realized how much I missed painting until I got back into it. Why did I ever stop?
I almost forgot what it was like to have my hands covered in paint. Everything about it felt both nostalgic and exciting: the texture, the brushes, and the multitude of color.
I’ve always been attached to abstract work. I seldom work on anything but that. I feel like abstractness represents a part of myself that I can’t really explain to others. I feel like it speaks to how I feel, what I want, and where I’m looking all at once.
Remind me to never stop again,