It started with a feeling in an art school that was going to be knocked down in a few months for bigger parking lots in art school.
This very cool girl named Jen with long dreadlocks was working the register. She introduced me to my favorite paint for ten years in acrylics, A4. It was a tin you could roll up with an oily thickness to it. I loved how much the tube could cover. I much have painted over 20 paintings a tube. Mixing and matching and making my colors and all these beautiful nude paintings. At that time it was all I painted. Nude forms and figures on wood panels. I kept it going all over the east coast in a duffle bag. I remember having a massive mental break down in 2003. I never felt so low and I'm not sure how I made it. It was this year of sex, drugs, and lovelessness. None loved anyone really but everyone was fucking each other at this beach college I was resting my head in. I felt no inspiration without love. Not a need for romantic love but caring love. We all wanted it and couldn't hold close to it. The art commune dream was a bust and so I packed up my pickup trunk and drove away easel and all.
I was five days removed and getting calls to sex parties. I have to be honest for a stupid young second I almost made a road trip. I chose to drink a bottle in a green corduroy chair I picked up for $2 at Goodwill. Back to painting again but my mind still breaking. Half a year later I tried to commit suicide via blowing out my pilot light and closing the windows. The gas line for the stove auto turned off. I woke up on the floor sick and my friend made me good to the hospital.
I'm telling you this to give you honest about how I got here. My lines and my create superpower almost killed me.
My mom gave me a dog so I had a better pull towards life. She is a very smart lady and knew I wouldn't try it again because the dog needed me to live and was always at my side. I could wake up sad, happy, funny or mad and I still had to make sure this little dog was ok. The responsibility changed me into an adult fully.
Later on, I met my wife and we adopted our cats much later.
time makes us into what we are and sometimes it's better. Paint and pain can go hand in hand in the journey.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
pistache:
Oh man! Your blog…So beautiful and so true, thank you for sharing, we’re survivors, so good to listen part of your story. =)
jaws318:
:) @pistache I'm just glad to be here. Thank you