Irritations in painting:
Paint. A tube a good acrylics is the same price as a six pack of domestic beer. I know this could be worse if I were working with oils but, shit, we're talking a six-pack of beer here, folks.
Canvases. Well, they're waaaay cheaper than about five to six years back and they're already pre-stretched and mounted [that's what she said] but combine that with the price of a tube or two of paint and I spend more in one week than I do for food.
Of course I COULD eat the paint, although I was never a paste-eater in school. Nor did I eat boogers, snails, or dirt in case you're keeping score.
Back to beer. I tend to drink more when I paint. I'll sit there, pondering the canvas and imbibe while dissecting it in my head. The painting, not the beer. Dissection I mean.
Are you following?
Good, because I barely am. So while I'm just vegging out piecing together what I want to do next I drink.
This is a logical thought process for me, and here's a quick peek into such a process via internal dialogue:
"Hmmmm, a large tan blob. What do I add to that? Pink. I need pink. Wait. Really? Christ, you're a moron, what kind of color palette is going on inside your head there, Malibu Barbie? Oh look. Beer. Yum yum, tasty!"
Sip-sip-sip.
"Okay scratch the pink [that's what she said], no pink. Burnt sienna, okay we'll try that. I burnt my toast this morning. Sienna sounds like cinnamon. Oh! Cinnamon Toast Crunch! I used to love that cereal. Oh. Wheat. Wheat is a good color. Oh look. Beer. Yum yum, tasty!"
Sip-sip-sip..
"Hmmmm, red. I need red. Cadmium red. Cadmium sounds like what's inside of a battery. Are the batteries dying in my CD remote? If I threw my remote out the window after the batteries died and it hit someone would that be considered battery due to lack of batteries? Oh look. Beer. Yum yum tasty!"
Sip-pause-sip.
"Hmmmm, okay, this kind of looks like a bit less than feces, it's actually starting to progress into more than a blob on a canvas. Did I see the remake of 'The Blob' movie? That had Kevin Dillon in it. He's in 'Entourage' now. I didn't like this last season too much. I had fries for lunch. Were they seasoned too much? I think they were. Oh look. Beer. Yum-yum tasty!"
Sip. Siiiiip..
"Okay, I've been sitting here chewing on this brush end for a while, not really coming up with much. Blank. Nada. My taste today sucks. Speaking of sucking, why does this brush end taste terrible. Oh. Because that's the brush tip. Ugh. Oh look, beer, sweet godlike cleansing beer!"
And that was my day painting.
Beer was more expensive than paint today.
But not on most days.
Paint. A tube a good acrylics is the same price as a six pack of domestic beer. I know this could be worse if I were working with oils but, shit, we're talking a six-pack of beer here, folks.
Canvases. Well, they're waaaay cheaper than about five to six years back and they're already pre-stretched and mounted [that's what she said] but combine that with the price of a tube or two of paint and I spend more in one week than I do for food.
Of course I COULD eat the paint, although I was never a paste-eater in school. Nor did I eat boogers, snails, or dirt in case you're keeping score.
Back to beer. I tend to drink more when I paint. I'll sit there, pondering the canvas and imbibe while dissecting it in my head. The painting, not the beer. Dissection I mean.
Are you following?
Good, because I barely am. So while I'm just vegging out piecing together what I want to do next I drink.
This is a logical thought process for me, and here's a quick peek into such a process via internal dialogue:
"Hmmmm, a large tan blob. What do I add to that? Pink. I need pink. Wait. Really? Christ, you're a moron, what kind of color palette is going on inside your head there, Malibu Barbie? Oh look. Beer. Yum yum, tasty!"
Sip-sip-sip.
"Okay scratch the pink [that's what she said], no pink. Burnt sienna, okay we'll try that. I burnt my toast this morning. Sienna sounds like cinnamon. Oh! Cinnamon Toast Crunch! I used to love that cereal. Oh. Wheat. Wheat is a good color. Oh look. Beer. Yum yum, tasty!"
Sip-sip-sip..
"Hmmmm, red. I need red. Cadmium red. Cadmium sounds like what's inside of a battery. Are the batteries dying in my CD remote? If I threw my remote out the window after the batteries died and it hit someone would that be considered battery due to lack of batteries? Oh look. Beer. Yum yum tasty!"
Sip-pause-sip.
"Hmmmm, okay, this kind of looks like a bit less than feces, it's actually starting to progress into more than a blob on a canvas. Did I see the remake of 'The Blob' movie? That had Kevin Dillon in it. He's in 'Entourage' now. I didn't like this last season too much. I had fries for lunch. Were they seasoned too much? I think they were. Oh look. Beer. Yum-yum tasty!"
Sip. Siiiiip..
"Okay, I've been sitting here chewing on this brush end for a while, not really coming up with much. Blank. Nada. My taste today sucks. Speaking of sucking, why does this brush end taste terrible. Oh. Because that's the brush tip. Ugh. Oh look, beer, sweet godlike cleansing beer!"
And that was my day painting.
Beer was more expensive than paint today.
But not on most days.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Someday I want to know the secret band. Lol.
I agree with you 100%. You are exactly right, people have that time to calculate their words and say whatever they want to say. And I am naive and believe the crazy stories, especially when it comes tol ove and the fairytale. (But not when someone is a banana.)
Instincts suck when they are bad ones.