D A Y 10 // T H E • M I S T Y
Maybe I’m drawn to the fog because everything that’s obscure feels like Veuve Clicquot Brut (especially after jacuzzi) and the first cigarette after sex.
Which I don’t do. The cigarette, that is.
I used to though.
But, I digrese.
The fog, the water, the “in-between” I talked about yesterday, the abstract but not really, the figurative but not fully, happy but a bit nostalgic—all have one thing is common. They’re working the muscle of imagination (like Veuve Clicquot Brut does after hot steaming bath salts.)
The enigmatic or misty are like things we don’t understand entirely yet love.
Like when Starburst bursts in your mouth. Or like the Star burst, literally, while you’re walking the beach. What is this, we’re not sure, the sensation is True. And that’s enough.
On another note, I wonder how big I can go with my watercolors before having a nervous breakdown.
It’s not easy. So much easier to just splash, paint, pour, slap and sculpt afterwords.
How to paint nature and avoiding painting nature is NOT. How to escape the literal and obvious is like seeing what you want exactly and discarding it. It’s painful and yet it builds the muscle of seeing and crafting the misty kinds we so love. At least I do. Almost obviously.
#30daysofHeartNesting : to sit, to sharpen, to soften, to write, to reveal, to remove my blind spots.