The sensuality of painting

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Portrait of me, made by a fan

My body is all tingly. To paint is to create new life. It excites me. Brushstrokes are like colored breaths. Dipping a dirty brush in the water – see how the paint dissolves like smoke just beneath the surface. Dancing with lines. Hiding in the space between them. Messy hands, covered in paint. White. Pink. Prussian blue. Skin. The scent of nuances without a name. Shadow-less time. The stillness of the studio. Rough strokes with the brush like scratching, wanting to tear into the life inside the canvas.  I am soon there. Inside it – but bringing it out. Exposing it. My nature, in a thousand layers of paint.

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3 thoughts on “The sensuality of painting

  1. as i was reading your words and looking at your portrait it made me think of this……. I crave words and art and beauty they are the most wonderful addiction they destroy doubt,rot boredom and ruin simplicity they bring the sweet creative chaos i can’t live without……..Stevie

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  2. oh yes they do 🙂 indeed. I am so addicted to those things to and it’s the only addiction that has nothing negative to it and something that can never hurt you. I want MORE!!!!! 🙂

    Like

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