I am in awe of how artists can create a painting in one sitting.
Mine take days and days of layers and layers. Sometimes the suspense is overwhelming, I can't wait to see what it will look like.
I never know where I am going to go with the color or the texture. It changes with each layer.
Here is how I started
It is a lot to take in, it screams at you. It makes me feel like I am driving on the interstate, hell bent on getting to work, so much traffic, my knuckles are white on the wheel. I hate that feeling. There is A lot of color, A LOT of paint. So thick took 5 days to dry. In the thickness of the paint I scrawled in words and shapes. Kept it positive. I NEED that positive. Kinda like my mantra I guess.
Now it is dry, lets add more color!
I mixed three colors to get this one. Slapped it on, and then with a damp towel and a wet paint brush, removed color in patches. Removed that screaming - I was nearly deaf!
Let it dry.
How bout some more color!!
This was a bit much. I really scared myself. Thought I had went to far. The screaming started again. Same process, used a damp towel, wet brush, and A LOT of water to remove this paint in areas of the work area, and to lighten the over all color.
Finally I did a coat of white - (forgot to take a picture) the coat of white was really watered down. I had to stop the screaming. I applied it with a wet washcloth. It had a white wash look to it, made the painting very opaque. Didn't have the look I wanted yet. So I kept rubbing, and wetting, and rubbing. Even rubbed the paint off in one spot, but I liked the look of it and kept going. Finally - with the white wash just right, and still wet, I went over it with a high gloss glaze.
PERFECT!!!
The glaze reacted with the white washing and gave a great look to the final painting. I am in love.
I have named it "De-Stressing Distress".
It reminds me of an old pair of blue jeans. Soft, and torn. When you pull them on, they button just right and you sigh with comfort. You can trace your finger around the stains on the thigh and remember the party where you danced and danced, and spilled your drink. How about the rip in the knee. The memory of bending down to pick up your child at the park, and they ripped, and smile. The hole in the pocket where all your change drops thru, and you silently cuss, because you keep meaning to mend it. Deep in the threads of these jeans hold the secrets of your happiness and when you pull them on nothing else matters.
Like the painting, if you look, the words and shapes can be seen, words like love and passion, words that are so important to us, and we tend to forget in our busy lives.
I want you to get lost in this painting, and feel the comfort it gives.
