Always making
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.
Home again. Home again…..ting ting ting.
The adventures found me this week and I lived.
Have fun with my new episode. Leave a comment.
You grow older in the mist of a powerful painting. I remember being 10 when I picked up a brush for real for the first time. To make a thing and mean to see it alive was a hard and long journey. I felt like I was at the end of a hallway trying to get to the doorway where Piccaso was standing.
This paper man! It gets me. I keep learning it better each day. It feels like learning to hold my liquor in college.
These Papers are made in the deepest part of the world. I feel the freedom moving pasts my fears.
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.
jaws_blake 