Oh man. I think about this all the time. We'd be sitting at the IHOP or the PlasBank and you'd flip through your book. How coffee stains turn into the damn eifel tower with a frenchman on a bicycle underneath. How everything had the potential to be something else, had a way to turn more beautiful or complicated.
In painting, I thought about that a lot. All I wanted was the things in the front to *look* in the front, and I'd imagine how easy it was for you to make a peanut into a palace. I used to watch your hands pour out something beautiful at the bus stop and wonder what the fuck was wrong with mine. Hands! Go! But my hands can't make what my mind wants. If I can't catch and hold the flash of joy in your eye, whats the point in attempting your face at all?
So I start with painting my plants. Their expressions take at least a day to change.
Posted by Sonya at August 29, 2006 11:24 AMcheap flight - http://100cheapflights.blogspot.com/
Posted by: cheap flight at September 6, 2006 12:13 PM