Up early this morning. With baby neatly tucked next to Kevin in bed I was able to sneak into my studio.
I went down the basement and brought up an old painting I had made in college, it got damaged in our sometimes wet cellar and I thought I would paint over it. After taking a look at it though, I found it in too bad shape for mere painting over. New plan: take it off the frame and buy a bit of canvas to re-wrap the stretchers. It is a nude painting. The woman was plump and round and I remember when I brought it home from school during summer break my mom thought it looked like her. She got a kick out of it, she had a nude painting of herself that she didn’t actually have to drop a stitch of clothing for.
I am always battling that urge to keep “things”/ memories in tangible forms. The painting was in the basement where it wasn’t being looked at anyway. My mom, though not on this earth anymore is truly such a part of me that I don’t even have to conjure up memories to be close to her; I hear her in my voice, she echos in me when I laugh. So I took the painting off the stretcher staple by staple and then cut it up, deciding at different stages of destruction what parts I might keep.
In the end I have only a small part, the rest is going out to the trash. I may just strip even that part down to bookmarks for the boys (or pausers as they like to call them).
I like to repurpose, sell, or give away, my “things”. I find it cathartic this push against my desire to store up “treasures” in objects of this earth. It is refreshing to be left with that blank canvas I get to paint something new on.
Ok, the baby is calling… So nice to finally post here again though.