
Not sure what to make of this painting, but I enjoyed doing it…What do you think? It is 8 by 12 inches, approximately, in gouache on Ampersand board (essentially gessoed masonite).
Ceterum censeo MAGA esse delendam.
The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.
Kate Greenough's daily drawings
Apprenez les langues !
Not your third grade paper mache
Portrait Art and Paintings by Jon Amdall
Books, papers and blogs by Joanna Moncrieff
"While I breathe, I hope"
My Life After Narcissistic Abuse
An intellectual, emotional and spiritual spittoon.
The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.
Everything Matters
Ceterum censeo MAGA esse delendam.
The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.
Kate Greenough's daily drawings
Apprenez les langues !
Not your third grade paper mache
Portrait Art and Paintings by Jon Amdall
Books, papers and blogs by Joanna Moncrieff
"While I breathe, I hope"
My Life After Narcissistic Abuse
An intellectual, emotional and spiritual spittoon.
The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.
Everything Matters
Love it!
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Thank you, MC and Brenda for commenting on my strange painting. I loved your interpretations. I am trying to simply relax and paint, trying not to worry about what I paint because then I paralyze myself. But I want to know what it means, AFTERwards, at least to others. That matters to me, but only then. So again, I thank you!
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Hints of The Wave, angular walls, contrasting colours but still harmonious, water has some clarity and purity to it, surreal composition, evocative, no shortage of interest… I like it 😊
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Hi Pam – very evocative painting… when I was really little, maybe 6 years old, I had a dream that I was supposed to watch my younger brother when my mother went out. He was in his crib in our bedroom. I decided to go out and play but then I heard my brother crying and crying, so I ran back to his room and when I tried to walk across the black and white checkerboard tiled floor to get him from the crib, the floor turned into water – not only was I not able to help him, but his eyes fell out — which I take as my kid’s little mind’s literal translation of he ‘cried his eyes out.’ I felt horribly helpless and guilty. So, your painting reminded me of what it felt like to “not have footing” and feel helpless.
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