Moving Paint

It's Winter Break and I'm in the studio. Though it scares me that my productive time is when I have absolutely nothing else to do, I am reassured that the paint, this time, is movin' like I want it to.

I remember a conversation in college between some friends and I, and we were talking about a particularly attractive girl. She was that sort of fragile and hot art chick. Anyway, the conversation ended with one friend saying, "Yeah, but she sure can move paint." I had never heard this expression used, and for all I know now, it might have been it's first use, though I doubt it. I have used it many times since then though. When I say someone can "move paint" I mean that that particular painter has taken the time and effort to understand the properties of his material.

This week I have been moving paint like crazy. It bends to my will. It follows my orders. When I exhale, and slow my pulse to the rate at which I must to paint, the paint and I sync up and we move like one organic being. It's like in Avatar. The paint and I just lock our little pony tails and we communicate.

I have a lot going right now. I have about 12 paintings on easels/my work table right now and theoretically, I will have them to post by next week. Before I can do that though, I have to paint the following things:
  • The sesame seeds and pickles on a Big Mac.
  • A wild rose.
  • Odwalla orange juice bottle.
  • A CTA pass.
  • Some blurry traffic/brake lights.
  • A doughnut.
  • Pizza.
  • A vintage chubby cupid illustration.
  • Ross & Rachel's first kiss.
  • An old school Fisher Price Little Person.
  • A one-hitter.
  • Peanut butter cookies.
  • Georgia Bulldog.
  • Popcorn.
  • A granite pillar.
  • A piece of college lined notebook paper.
  • Big green polka dots.
  • The original Smallville billboard.
That's a lot for one weekend. I'd better get back to it.


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