I.
Living with a canvas is comforting to me. To be in the same room with it, quietly.
Just being together. A painting is a living being. It requires attention. Sometimes it requires being left alone. Sometimes it needs to be engaged. Sometimes it needs to be challenged. Sometimes it needs to play. Sometimes it needs to argue. Sometimes it needs to be held and caressed. Sometimes it requires tenderness and silence. Sometimes it requires boldness and noise. The painting will tell me what it needs if I pay attention. It forces me to reevaluate. It forces me to let go of old beliefs and preconceived notions. It forces me to go deeper. Sometimes it needs more and I need to add. Sometimes it needs less and I need to take away. Sometimes it just needs to sit for days, quietly, untouched. It is a symbiotic relationship. I feed it and it nourishes me. When it gets what it truly needs I am happy. When it is lacking, I am unsatisfied. When it’s boring I’m bored. When it’s faking it I feel cheated. Unlike me, it is not afraid of change. It will let me know when it’s finished. It is both patient and challenging. It embraces my mistakes and makes them its own. It won’t let me off the hook. It is not afraid to die.
II.
The beauty of a white canvas. The beauty of a blank page. The beauty of an empty room. The beauty of an open sky. The beauty of not-knowing. The beauty of a mind free of thoughts. The beauty of an unanswered question. The beauty of a day without plans. The beauty of silence. The beauty of the desert.
III.
For me, the process of painting is communication. Not with the viewer. That relationship is between them and the painting. It is theirs, it is intimate, it is not for me to judge. I have no idea what someone will think of my painting, and I don’t care. My communication is with the painting. It will tell me what it needs. Sometimes it will make loud demands, sometimes it will make quiet suggestions. Sometimes it will pout and not say anything at all. Sometimes it will try and trick me into giving it something it doesn’t need, like a toddler begging for candy. Sometimes it will make me guess. Sometimes I’m too dense to get it, and sometimes I’m mean and withholding. Sometimes I want something different and we fight. Generally the painting wins.