why painting?
Painting; the act of creating a piece of work using paint. A quiet, peaceful skill. Enveloping within the process. Captivating within the outcome. The fluid movement of making a painting surrounds me within its world. To escape the real world, the loud and overbearing world, the process of painting engulfs me into its peaceful land of making.
Painting; the act of creating a piece of work using paint. But does it have to be paint? Does painting have to be imprisoned in this definition to just the medium of paint? I, as an artist, should not conform to definitions. I should be pushing these to be broader, more open definitions. I am not trapped in this idea that the only way I can create a painting is by using the medium of paint.
The white canvas, like a plain page within a book, captivates me, pulling me in. Anything could become of this, anything could expand from this. I hesitate, staring at the whiteness, wondering what could become of this. My mediums placed next to me, ready to take the journey with me, to submerge me into the process.
Painting, a quiet act. It doesn’t need noise, it doesn’t need the world's attention in its process. It’s just me and the canvas. Within the process, I hear nothing, I’m focused about what happens within the piece. I feel the process reflects my subject, belemnites. They are quiet and still, not asking the attention of the world. Just being apart of the world. That's how I feel when I paint, I’m apart of that world. I’m not making noise, demanding attention, I am just painting.
Painting; the act of creating a piece of work using paint. But does it have to be paint? Does painting have to be imprisoned in this definition to just the medium of paint? I, as an artist, should not conform to definitions. I should be pushing these to be broader, more open definitions. I am not trapped in this idea that the only way I can create a painting is by using the medium of paint.
The white canvas, like a plain page within a book, captivates me, pulling me in. Anything could become of this, anything could expand from this. I hesitate, staring at the whiteness, wondering what could become of this. My mediums placed next to me, ready to take the journey with me, to submerge me into the process.
Painting, a quiet act. It doesn’t need noise, it doesn’t need the world's attention in its process. It’s just me and the canvas. Within the process, I hear nothing, I’m focused about what happens within the piece. I feel the process reflects my subject, belemnites. They are quiet and still, not asking the attention of the world. Just being apart of the world. That's how I feel when I paint, I’m apart of that world. I’m not making noise, demanding attention, I am just painting.