|8" x 10" |
today is dedicated to all the things i said i would do, but didn't. i'd also like to recognize the people i said i would call back but never did, not to mention the good deeds left undone, the best intentions, the grandiose plans never executed, the commitments i made and then flaked on, and the great ideas i forgot to write down. oh, the "air balls" of life: there are many of you, floating in the periphery of my head-space, threatening to sneak into my subconscious during what should be a restful sleep. today, i release you into the wild, to fend for yourself. because the new me doesn't let that shit fly.
this is a painting i thought i would do, and even said i would do, a long time ago. i really wanted to paint it, and i never did. i completely spaced it out. it comes from a photo by a woman named wendy, who worked to rehabilitate these owls. wendy saw a painting i'd done of an owl, and wanted it in her home, because owls are really special to her. it was too late, the painting was sold. yesterday, when she contacted me, i thought of the countless times that has happened to me--a simple missed opportunity--that ends up hanging heavy on the heart. so today i bit the bullet, and painted the picture that would mean something to wendy, and to me too.
the best part about painting for me is when i make someone's day better. i can even do it by accident. like the time i painted an excerpt of a photo of a desert motorcycle race. it may have been plagiarism, but i did it anyways and called it "appropriation". i hung the painting at the old town cafe, and one day a woman named Nancylee came in, saw the piece, and exclaimed, "that's my dad!!". turned out, of all the hundreds of people in that photo, i had painted him, unmistakeably identified by his helmet: immortalized on canvas, ever so accidentally. that, my friends, is the best part of painting.