Poem: Brushes and the Art of Living

Brushes and the Art of Living

In the studio I have brushes.
Lots of brushes.
Different sizes. Different thicknesses.
Some come to a fine point,
others broad and flat.
A few feathery and uneven.
Each one with a purpose,
a technique, tools to get just
the effect I seek
as I work to empty myself of the emotions
I struggle sometimes, to say.
Not unlike therapy, but with color.
And like therapy, no matter the tools at hand,
I always seem to need one more.

About this poem

As much as we’d like to think we’re done, we never are.

The picture was taken in my studio after a recent brush cleaning session.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s