The Paint, The Perfume, and Me

Blue skies.

Little Buddha.

And some marks.

They don't look like troublemakers do they? Well, they are. Enough to keep me tossing and turning in bed most of last night. Well, they and Harry and James. And a woman named Remy. Huh? What is she about now?
I am talking about a full tilt head on collision with what was and what will be. And you better believe I am spritzing Hermes, 24 Faubourg on today. In fact, I may have to go get more. I have a feeling I am going to need a lot of it.

Let me back up a bit. Hm.( This tea I'm drinking needs to be coffee.)

Okay, I am a painter. I paint. (See it needs to be coffee.) I have these paintings in the works. Nice paintings. I like them a lot. One of them, began to feel very different as I was working along on it. This has been happening a lot lately, but this one was starting to really talk back to me. See those marks in the last photo. The trouble began there. Like soft drum beats heard from a distance and gradually building until I could not ignore them. Those marks got to be like those little elves that take their ice picks to my eyeballs sometimes when my allergies flare. Oh, the marks are more benevolent, but they are also equally demanding.

They told me to try painting blue sky on a canvas with a soft cotton rag. No brush. Save the brush for fine tuning. But Jan, paint with a rag, really. You'll like it. It will smear and slide right across and you'll see clouds float and blue drift in and out. It will be like being on the Chanticleer again. Huh? That got my attention. (The Chanticleer is a sailboat, a 40 foot Pearson. It is my all time favorite boat in the world that I have ever been on, but that is a whole other story.)

What you didn't know paintings talked? Well, I got out a rag and did what they said. Guess what? Yes. It felt better than good. It felt magical. I could drift and flow even on a relatively small canvas. For me 24" x 36" is small. I prefer to work very big. I actually have a 20 foot long watercolor in the works. It has been tucked away since Santa Fe last year.

That's great and all Jan, but what about those guys you mentioned and why the Little Buddha. And who is Remy?

Sip. Sip. ( Still tea, still needing coffee, or some sleep.) Well, okay, about last night. Just like those marks have been telling me that there is no way I can paint quite the same way I was before, before everything until now, I have guys that are telling me the same about my presence on line. Come on, jump. We've got you. It'll feel really good and be beautiful in design. Let's open up your world just a wee bit more. So I jumped. Sent the email saying, "Let's do it!", early in the evening. Felt great. Excited, nervous, but it felt great.

Until 3:28 am. Yep. That's when I woke up in the dark wondering what in the world I am doing. And ideas started to pour onto paper. And Remy, well Remy isn't talking too much. I think she's a muse. But last night, she slammed the trunk shut, put the key in the ignition, and pulled away from familiar. Let's do it. The marks, the paint, the stories, let's ask the tougher questions, let's dig into what I don't know about paint, let's just get this show on the road.

I think it's about time to start spritzing on that perfume, my kick ass, get it done and love it, perfume. You see chaos and I are old friends. I like adventure, and I like to thrive. Heading toward the mystery is not an unusual thing for me. What ifs can be fun, in that frightening, exciting way. And the guys, those amazing Men With Pens, well, they want to do part of this in public...yep, definitely need the 24 Faubourg today.

And Little Buddha? He just smiles. Doesn't tell me a thing. Just keeps mentioning a path.