I was rummaging through there the other day and I came across my oil & acrylic paints, brushes and canvas paper. Oh boy....that really sent my mind racing back to the final months of my active addiction. I really got into some oil painting in those final days and though i am not a painter, the word was good in hard, rough way. It was abstract, reds, yellow and black creating swirling, orangy worlds with line silhouettes of tormented faces...and unfortunately there are no pictures.
Honestly, I do not recall with any certainty what I was thinking or trying to achieve though my guess today is I was painting what I felt like inside. I'm a bit hesitant to pick up the brushes and pallet knife for fear I might unleash all that torment and rage again. I'm just not sure that it would be healthy for me to paint. A couple paintings I gave to my friends JVO/RVO in New Richmond MI. Last I knew they were there. I know there must be some in storage but I wouldn't know where to look...
So I must decide if I want to take a chance on painting again. I really want to but there is just a bit of hesitation: the "what if's" going on between me ears...kind of thing. I think I'll sleep on it....
