The last time I ever held a paintbrush was in high school. My favorite Chinese teacher (well, I’m mighty surprised to even have one), asked me and my good buddy Sean to do a series of paintings for a small exhibit in school. We got exempted from some Chinese classes to paint eclipses, full moons, dark clouds and an outer space view of the earth. We’d spent time at the library trying to mix watercolor paints and learning how to do shadows. I had no idea how to start but I followed the pictures that we had to copy. I knew I wasn’t gonna do a good job, Sean is the artistic one (he’s now an architect). I was just all too happy to be out of class… in a sort of legal way, contrary to the usual.
I enjoy going to exhibits and art museums, even if I have zero idea which of which is realism, expressionism, impressionism and surrealism. Ah, abstract, I might be able to tell that with one eye closed. I’ve heard too many abstract reasoning that it’s too familiar -that type that don’t make any sense yet some try to push the logic of it to get something or get out of something. Funny how creative people can get. 🙂
The interest to learn how to paint came up again maybe 3 years ago but I never got around to it. Early this year, I thought that trying my hand in painting would be a good distraction or medium of expression. I was sort of running out of words to say something without saying it. Har-har. I’m very open but there are words that you restrain yourself to say. You know, like diet. That word I don’t like very much. But yea, I wanted to paint. I wanted colors.
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