So i finally finished this painting for my uncle. I was supposed to make it for his last birthday, and then for Christmas. but he was gone to rehab, at christmas, so i got a reprieve and more time to put it off.
So I had glued some tissue paper on there.. and a neutral color, and that was it for months.
It sat at the end of my bed taunting me to finish.. but of course i put it off till the very last minute. Which it was, but it wasn't. I had been thinking all that time... of how to do it. i made some half finished mini collages. i thought about what to include. i flip flopped between making a painting, painting. like something that more resembled real life, vs. something i would make. and when it came down to it, i just did it how i wanted. because it's supposed to be from me, and it's supposed to hold memories and mean something. I wanted it to remind my uncle of all those times we all spent at that beach. In that house. And maybe how things are now are so left of how anyone could've imagined them to be, but we still have those memories. And i wouldn't trade them in for anything.
The handwriting text mixed into the
ocean are pages from my dad's college notebooks. I like to use a bit of
them in things. It's like instant history, it's like spreading my dads
memory though my art, even if i'm the only one that knows it's there.
In this painting, under the house somewhere, is my dad's signature. I'd
been saving that bit of notebook page for awhile. I think it belongs there. Maybe someday, my uncle will be staring at the fabulous paper ocean and notice it in there and smile. I can hope. He really seemed to like the painting when i gave it to him. And everyone else seemed to think it was pretty cool too. It's funny because i'm always really sure things aren't gonna go over well, and it's always alright. must... gain... confidence. haha. one of these days...
It's nice to have actually finished something. I've been doing alot of that lately. Crossing things off the list actually feels good. really good. It's like i have all these lists of things i want to do, and then i can never choose where to start. it's like there's so many things, and what's really most important? and that leaves me to an hour long discussion with myself over what constitutes *important*. and then time is gone, and nothings done. I realized (actually re-realized) today, that just picking something, anything, and doing it to completion is good. It doesn't have to be the most important. Progress is progress. Onward and upwards my friend, onward and upwards.
