The first time I remember nearly losing my mind over art was in the year 2000. I settled into a nice apartment with a woodland name and set up an area to paint. There was an image in my head that needed to be painted, but I wasn’t ready to let it go. I kept holding it in until I had what I needed to put it down in paint.
I’ve been going to the same Hobby lobby since 1999, here in Indy. They knew me as the artist who would pace the canvas isle searching for the right size. Sometimes I’d find it but it wasn’t time to put it on canvas so I’d wander over to the paint section and choose something just right.
The art felt like it was boiling inside me, just swirling and rolling around. It was bliss and burden put together. But that was the point, I didn’t want that art piece on canvas until it broke out of me.
