The odd life I live.

Life is odd at the moment.

I live in a litte studio at the bottom of the garden like a Poddington pea. I honestly love it though, every day I spend painting and this is where it gets odd.

When I paint I fall in love.

it was a strange realisation an artist friend once said something to me... "at some point in every painting you hate what you are doing" and it got me thinking, you start out with your painting with a vague idea of where you are going but the journey changes the piece, little things stand out to you, mistakes make you alter, things that excite you make you change and run with them. you get angry and want to yell when it is not working but when it does everything including food and sleep gets forgotten. This thing demands so much time from you and you freely give it, you gladly give it for the opportunity to be part of something beautiful. At some point it becomes almost sexual (and not just because I sometimes spend a day painting someones bum). I slowly paint lips and my thoughts wander to how it would be to kiss them, that moment you pull someone close and feel them for the first time. Painstakingly painting someones eyes means you gaze into those pools and its it just like those long glances you have that you cant pull yourself away from.