As I contemplate the crisp and windy weather, and the joys of staying inside (which I’m not), I start thinking about the projects I’d like to undertake were I to avoid the winter like any normal human being. Of course what I should (and might) do is paint the damn hallway, but what I would love to do is get back to one (almost) non-horsey passion- art.
I was the quintessential artsy kid growing up, trading animal-shaped erasers for drawings in kindergarten, then becoming the sketchbook toting nerd in high school. Of course, horses made up the majority of my doodles.
Pen and Ink Drawing from High School
Then in college, after making the switch from Animal Science to Art & Design, I took a mandatory Painting studio as part of my degree, and found that I really loved the process. I could get completely in the zone for hours, and it was so peaceful and satisfying.
Part of a triptych
Mixed Media Painting
But sadly, the only thing I’ve painted since school is this rooster painting, which was meant to hang in my kitchen but now resides in one of the piles of artwork that dons every closet. Or to rephrase, the only things I’ve painted since school are one rooster painting and a shit ton of walls.
Rooster painting that I would love to truly finish one day!
That is not to say that I don’t satisfy the creative calling in other ways- photography is certainly an outlet for that (see Britt Gillis Design tab), as well as the occasional t-shirt design (or logo contest 😉 ) that comes around. But there is something about a fresh canvas, or a blank sheet of paper, that tangibly physical evidence of the artist’s hand, that those outlets simply lack.
Alice in Wonderland t-shirt design
My best friend N knows how much I miss doodling/painting/being an artiste, and got me this wonderful Disney book full of original animation sketches. I love to look through it, and have been wanting to try Disneyfying Foster for a long time. But other than this random proposed project, the tools that dominate my schedule remain my saddle and reins, and not my paint brush. Maybe when I’ve had so many falls that I’m too broken to ride, I’ll pick up my palette and give it a go again.