I'd go through these sudden "art-attacks" where I'd stay up all night mixing paints just to get the PERFECT hue of something and then spend the rest of the time painting things which made no sense to anyone except me. These weird bits of art would go up on my wall or the door to my room and after a few days I'd tear them down and the artlust would leave my person; to return suddenly unbidden.
My mother's side of the family are quite artistically inclined and they draw and paint the kind of stuff people can recognize or even like to look at. My father's biggest artistic achievement used to be masking my typographical errors on letters and birthday cards and making the errant letters into a clump of grass or flowers :-) That soon stopped after I learnt to spell and he discovered whiteout.
Cut to circa 2011 and MLM- he's been finger painting in playschool and coming home with flecks of paint on his clothes and looking very happy at each speck and splatter. I bought him kiddie paints and some chart paper and a whole new chapter of parenting began. The separate clothes for art time, the rags, the accessories for painting and of course the display of said art. It's taken the shape of a family weekend activity that gets whoops and hollers and leaves my floors with shapes of blurry hands and feet in jhango colors.
Seeing this kid paint with so much concentration and joy infected me with the desire to paint and with me to think is often to do. I went and bought two canvasses and started off on the path that inspiration led. The paints and brushes acted like a Ouija board and pretty much guided my hand. Red was initially quite skeptical of the amount of time I spent in just lathering colors on the canvass without any other shapes materializing for a long while. I kept going on about displaying texture and he took it to be intellectual gas of a person who has NO clue what she ought to be painting and takes refuge in arty-farty terms to disguise the fact :-) but in the end both canvasses were finished with alacrity and due pride was taken in displaying both to the usual suspects.
The first one, unarguably, looks like something a kindergarten kid's drawn while the second has pretensions of being a minimalistic representation- of sorts.
The only person who truly appreciates them is my son. He would love nothing more than to play with them, rub Play-Doh on them and even add more depth to them by spilling more colors on them as well...
But this wasn't art for art's sake. It was entirely for my own sake and there are some more oddities in the offing am sure. Watch this space. Psychedelic technicolor had nothing on me!