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.