somewhere underneath

I hate looking for things...or more accurately, I hate LOSING things and subsequently having to look for them. I consider myself a (fairly) organized person. Stuff has a place. When you are done with put it back, so when you, or someone else needs it next time, you can find it or tell them where to find it. I also hate looking for stuff that isn't lost. For example, stores like Winner's and Value Village are not my thing. They are big. There is much stuff...and if I don't find something interesting in about half an hour, I want to leave. So I simply don't go to these places. I would prefer if the cool stuff would jump out at me. Here I am! TADA. But that's clothing. I LOVE searching for good places to eat or interesting coffee houses in cities that I visit. I like looking for interesting things to take pictures of to paint. I like geocaching...the few times I did it on my friends' farm out in Eckville. (However, I don't like geocaching with people who SAY the know how...and actually don't, and get us lost, but that only happened one year! And we were still on the property...but nowhere near the co-ordinates we were REALLY supposed to be at.)

The best way to find something is to not look for it. That statement is annoying as hell when you are looking for....whatever it is that is pissing you off that you can't find...but it's also true. The moment you stop looking, you find it. Friends, keys, direction....direction(S) and inspiration. Or just something neat to look at. Today while finding optimal lighting in my house to photograph some commissions I had finished, I noticed this....and took a photo. It's not a painting. It's my palette. Layered in years of paint. Pretty neat, huh? It's thick...and heavy. I can't bring myself to sand it down. I think it looks cool. The surface is very uneven, and can make painting with my palette knife a bit of an adventure, but like everything else in my palette is a work in progress. If you peeled back the layers, you could see how my painting has changed based on the frequency of certain colors on the palette. I couldn't even tell you how many paintings this palette has ferried. The archive is at 394...not including one-a-days, watercolors, travel sketches, pen drawings, pencil drawings, pastel paintings and murals. I used to be able to tell you the name and dimension of one of my paintings just by looking at it. Now I have to look it up. Twelve years of painting and counting.

And somewhere underneath all this was an uncertain teenager who said; "There is no way I could be an artist!"