Not a Painter

I use paint on canvas (and other bases) but I am not a painter. You may think this comes down to talent. I may or may not agree.

The truth is, I am not a painter because I don’t make paintings. I don’t believe I have ever made something that I would want to sell or hang on the wall. That’s not the goal. What I want is an image. I love the painting, but I don’t feel fulfilled until I get a really good photograph of what I made. Then I throw the painting, or rather thing covered in paint, in the trash.

If I ever were to even attempt to sell my better, more successful work, I wouldn’t sell the thing with paint on it. I would sell the photograph.

Maybe one day I will do that. I will go on Etsy or one of those photo selling websites, and I will attempt to sell my art that way.

I am getting into some exciting new stuff soon. I bought a book about abstract painting with mixed media collage, and I am stoked. So much to learn, so many materials to try. Meanwhile, I am making digital art too as a sort of journal. Sometimes I might pair the images with words, with verbed and nouned feelings.

Experimenting With Novellettes

Recently I ordered some experimental novels I found in articles online. I believe I wrote awhile back about dabbling in fiction.

I dropped that for awhile. Now I am back. In desperate need of a sense of structure, I wanted new novels to read. However, I don’t want to write a regular sort of novel. As a poem writer, I want to break things down. I also want a shorter story. Can a story with no plot be good? Can the color orange be my protagonist? Can I structure my book as a series of ekphrastic poems? What does it mean to structure a story as a scrapbook? Can I include footnotes, to-do notes, and playlists?

I want to find out. I have a lot to learn. I am a voracious reader, but this is stuff I haven’t really touched. It is time to leave the familiar terrains of my mind and map a new world.