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.

Tom

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