My voice can be negative. It can be angry. It can be bitter. It can be afraid. Pure joy and laughter can often take a back seat to the stresses of daily life. Painting is where I lose myself and enjoy the moment. But, I learned this week I can’t paint a poodle. And for some reason my style is changing. I can’t find my inner writer any more either… I used to write all the time, poems, thoughts, letters. I don’t know where it’s gone. But I think it’s time to find it again.
I painted a little picture of one of my daughters with her fat cat. I like it, she likes it. But the poodle I’m trying to paint sucks. And my voice… is subdued. My thoughts feel like a chopped onion.

This entry was published on January 27, 2014 at 7:54 pm. It’s filed under art, life and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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