Well, it's kinda fun.

untitled, work in progress
oil on canvas
16" x 20"

I wish I knew what goes through the mind of someone who's painting something that looks like something. Like what's their motivation or reward for finishing? Being someone who paints by the seat of her paints, so to speak, I realize it's an odd question, but I'm terribly curious. My reward is along the lines of, "Hey cool, that vaguely resembles what I intended it to look like." Inevitably followed by, "Now what?"

Decisions seem to be predestined to a certain extent and then it's over. I mean, there was some excitement to it. But it happened so quickly. There was no anxiety, no "I have no idea what I'm doing," no sense of being lost, not millions decisions to negotiate, etc. Some play, quite a bit of spontaneity, even, but it didn't challenge me in the same way that abstract painting challenges me. I take that back. I did the whole thing with a palette knife and I've never done that before. I mean, I had a nice time and all, but it seemed so concrete. No pun intended.

That's the shallow part of my thought process. Again, no pun intended.

The image of an empty swimming pool.
JD Salinger's Teddy, still haunts me. The swimming pool at my mom's house that hasn't seen chlorinated water in 30 years haunts me as well. The implications of the empty pool are harsh. I'm pretty sure it's ripe for some sort of Southern Gothic extrapolation, but I'm not sure paint is the right medium. Maybe it is. I don't know. I'll push through until I decide it's too weird, boring or wrong. Or maybe it's a one-off. Who knows.