The Power of Paint

When I paint, the world breathes. When the brush slips into the alizarin crimson or cadmium yellow and glides slowly across the canvas, I feel a sense of calm. Things are simpler- not quite ‘black and white’, because I am painting in color, but it is all done in my colors, describing how I perceive things to be. I can make dragonflies glisten in the sun as they rest on my kayak after flying over the water of the Sound. I can draw a cascade of clouds approaching the sky front menacingly. I can reveal the ugly face of the butterfly, so often camouflaged by its bright, attractive wings. I can hide a moral within a scene of companionship or expose the liveliness of a bright red cardinal observing the season’s first snow. There are these abilities and more when I paint. The song lyrics of Erik Hassle fit my love of painting: “If the lies don’t touch you, the truth will.” Painting reveals the truth, my perceived truth that is, about life and individuals and situations. Expressions such as these require no words to reveal true hate or annoyances or adoration. Painting can be used to conceal that which it shouldn’t, but I prefer straightforwardness, putting the truth forward for anyone to find and opinionate on.

My favorite inspiration is the ocean. Painting the ocean is about as easy as riding one of those mechanical bulls at a fair. There is randomness inherent in the ocean, with no way to guarantee it will look as it does now in an hour’s time. In fact, it probably won’t look the same at all. The crazy shifts of the ocean are comparable to the way I have changed as an artist over time too- albeit, it takes me a bit longer to alter so completely as the ocean manages to do in a single tide. But from simple sketches to messy watercolors to charcoal outlines to blob painting to acrylics to a mixture of them all, I have evolved. It wasn’t a clean evolution, I reverted to old favorites often, especially the blob paintings I enjoy for their touch of unreality. But that progression into a medium I much prefer to the previous one is good. It lends interest to art because it causes me to wonder what mediums I might want to try in the future. Perhaps I will try more abstract artwork again, in the style of Jackson Pollock, or maybe I will find inspirations in my everyday doodling. The future of my art and expression of that art is open and clear to whatever path I fancy. Paint lets me coat my reality anew with color and awareness. What can be more powerful than determining the color of the icicles hanging from a blue roof and painting those icicles into life?