I’ve come to the realization that when it comes to my artistic endeavors, drawing is one that doesn’t top the list. In fact, the best thing I’ve ever drawn was a teddy bear my father helped me curate during my sophomore year of college that ultimately garnished me a C for effort.
I’ve written blogs on how painting has helped me to cope with my mother’s death, but the more I paint, the more I’ve been discovering my artistic style. As it turns out, I’m an abstract expressionist. Who knew?
A Different Kind of Outlet
Painting is a much different outlet for me than writing. When I write, I know what my intentions are. Regardless of whether or not I’m surprised where my ink and paper take me, the concept of my story is grounded in thought – and a thought I’ve spent countless workdays daydreaming over. While my characters may evolve, the story follows a format.
Painting – especially abstract painting – is elusive. I don’t know where my train of thought is going to take me until it’s already moved me there. The brush glides across a flimsy canvas. With acrylic soaked hands, my work speaks for itself, and sometimes, these paintings tell a story that I’m too incapable of saying out loud.
Amidst an argument I was having with a few of my closest friends, this painting emerged. It, subconsciously took three of our favorite colors, mashed them together to show what chaos had ensued. Friends argue and makeup; it’s a part of life. When I stood outside, thrashing paint across my lawn, dying blades of grass pink and purple, I realized just how cathartic painting had become for me – and just how loud a message that could utter.
The same could be said for this painting here – ” Fever, or that time I really wanted you.” There’s a small inscription on the back of the canvas that reads, “love mom and dad,” but it’s not about my parents or my in-laws; it’s about John and I and our love for this child who is yet to exist.
It may seem strange to inscribe such a silly message with an empty womb, but I painted this on a Tuesday evening after work, after a playful conversation that made the two of us realize we were eager to start a family of our own. While we still have several months to go before our wedding, the eagerness we have to start a family has increasingly grown over the years.
Much More Than Words
Before, having a child came with all the plans we’d have to rearrange; it became all about the sacrifice. Now, what we want more than anything is to create someone that’s a part of us; someone who will be brave, be kind, be loving, be impactful to this universe.
Unlike words, whose meanings are outlined in black and white, painting is up for interpretation. A painting can be anything you want it to be. That’s the beauty of it.