The places we go

 

A week of making,

Deep and true and fearful. The honest parts of me know the outcome is no bigger than a grain of sand to the world but I am a grain of sand so it is my world. In search of my next masterpiece and I do not know anything to begin and build a new universe with.

Wishing wells of all the parts that made me grow into the creative heartbeat. Cocoa butter for the tips and tops of feet and elbows to pull me back to the first time I ever lifted a brush as a youth. Whine and beer to remind my self that I can be limitless as I slow and speed up time; traveling on and bending space with colors.

Where ever I go the art is playing in the background; in the corners of my eyes. Forever a trickster to steal me from all other tasks. Making and making and making.

Next stop Painter Files Podcast.

Painter Files Podcast Ep 22

 

a million dots. I want to get a tattoo gun so I can make one million dots on a face in every painting. I want universes around eyes. To work huge is the occupation of the galaxy of details. No one hand makes without deep lacunas of agony in your bones. The silly bits are that the pain is a trophy of all the beauty you give to the art. To be a doner of such bloom is an honor and a gift of pure love.

Painter Files Podcast ep 21

His name was/is Glenn Arthur.

Painter Files podcast ep 20

I always find my words in these podcasts. I’m so quiet in a lot of life. I love to paint in my head rather than slow down and be a part of everything. I must look crazy to most people but it makes me happy. I figure the idea is to find what makes you so happy.

I hope this finds you well and the photos are from this week in my studio. I loved this week’s end.

Painter Files Podcast ep 17

There is this place in my mind where all these art history facts live and as I get older the facts are more about my art history and that excites me. It’s simple and beautiful and fun and hungry in a few ways.

I do wish I had done more with my brushes in my twenties.

 

 

 

Painter Files Podcast ep 15

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Home again. Home again…..ting ting ting.

The adventures found me this week and I lived.

Painter Files – King Finger

 

These Papers are made in the deepest part of the world. I feel the freedom moving pasts my fears.

Crow’s Pancake house

There is the power in the universe that grabs you. It is not like arms but more like solar fingers. You are a part of it and it you. The paint feels like a slow whisper of all the places the fingers stop to play the piano. I think that it is all part of a long dance that started before you and anything related to you and will end long after you. This all feels like a journey on the map of a placemat in a pancake house.

Art found me and me it.