Did you know I enjoy painting?
The walls of my apartment are slowly filling up with an array of artwork, most of which I created myself, whether through a tutorial or otherwise. There’s a galaxy I painted last Christmas. There’s two Van Gogh inspired pieces. There are fiery feathers. There is a hobbit hole ready to take it’s place on my wall.
This time last year I was really just getting started with painting. It was a struggle for those first few months. I always scrutinized my pieces, to the point of tears in a few scenarios. I imagine this is what the extreme looks like when we consider how we are all our own worst critics. If I overanalyze my paintings, I still criticize more than I imagine others might say I should. Maybe. No one’s perfect.
For the past few days, though, I seem to have hit a painting bug. I finished the hobbit hole I’ve been working on for months—it’s ready to be varnished and hung on my walls. I have a renewed desire to hang the painting I was doing the night little Indy left us. I finished my first of three Christmas paintings, and started the base on my second.
I don’t know why I’ve been painting so much. I spent so much time doing different paintings and painting related projects over the last little bit—it’s all I wanted to do over the weekend. It’s interesting to me because while I enjoy painting, it never really took over like that. Frankly, if it continues I am either going to need to magically discover more wall space or start giving away paintings. I guess it helps I am doing three Christmas paintings, because I can easily take those down and rotate them with others on my wall.
I can’t wait to show them to you. The three share a theme, one quite close to my heart in more ways than one. I hope to tell you the story during my next Time For Tea post. I don’t see why I would miss it—somehow I expect I will finish the remaining two paintings by the end of this coming weekend.
It’s been…cathartic? I think that’s the right word. It’s a different feeling than reading books, I know this. Painting, for the time being, has morphed into something that will calm me and center me. It’s not the same a reading, since that can provide an escape, but it still works.
I don’t know if you enjoy painting, but I encourage you to find some sort of outlet like this, whatever form it takes. Creating something is a wonderful feeling. Just remember, it looks beautiful. No matter what.
Walking The Forest Floor 