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.