My Paintings

There's a wall that I paint on. I started this project at the beginning of the year. It was kind of something like a symbol of starting new and fresh. Previous to this year the corner of my room only had a few pictures and some cheesy looking drawings that I made of my friends. One in particular I thought was pretty amazing, but after my life took a complete turn I decided that something new needed to come of this wall. In January I painted the most beautiful mountain I have ever seen in my life. Well, as close to seeing as pictures on the internet come to seeing it. Anyway, this mountain is finished and I was planning on putting a city below it but not it's just the mountain with a dark space at the base of it and a few green lumps that symbolize hills. A moon is full and proceeding through the sky on the left side of the mountain as the sun sets on the right. Below this picture of a mountain I made another painting. I think its my favorite. I created the original drawing last year, but putting it on my wall and giving it color was the best decision I've made so far on my wall. The mountain represents my realistic dreams and the tree house below it represents my fantasy dreams. Sometimes I forget which one I need the most. Reality or fiction. Last year I lived in a fictional world and the reality of the universe came crashing in around me. I was crushed to realize that things weren't as they seemed. Of all the things that I've painted so far I've begun realizing that I wouldn't change any of it. Somethings aren't to my complete liking, but then again that's the good thing about paint...you can paint over it eventually when it gets tiring and make something new. My thoughts on the next wall color for my room is a violet purple, at least that's how I see hit in my mind. Then again I may choose a sky blue and paint clouds everywhere so I can feel like I live in the sky. I figure I may sound like a nut case, but I'm only as sane as a girl can get after all the hurt I've felt.

The little tree house that I created is red with a brown roof and has a front deck porch. A screened in section of the porch gives it a nice old time-y feel. Sometimes I like to think how the door may sound, if it squeaks and creaks when it opens. Or maybe it's rusted open. The way the rain sounds when it hits the roof and the way you are surrounded with trees and sky. Watching lightning play all around you. It's terrifying and mesmerizing all the same. Beside my tree house, perched up above my plug in on the wall, I painted a flower.  This flower has orange petals and there are seven of them. Some of the petals have fallen off onto the soft dirt below. Over all there are nineteen petals. Again, another representation of something. I've used to much blue and green paints that I'm nearly running out and about to be left with bright pinks and purples. There is a picture I created with all kinds of bright colors. It's in the shape of a heart but its in tiny little triangle shapes. Like little shards of color mixed all together. Kaleidoscope heart is what I call it. Only one picture has been painted of a place that I've been to many times before. Junaluska. The lake is a crystal blue, brown lumber between the grey stone columns. Three mountains off in the distance playing hide and seek with the sun. I remember once when I was there a few years ago I was walking on the rose walk they have with someone that was very special to me. The moon was high above reflection off into the lake and the smell of roses danced all around us. The air was chilly and he gave me his over shirt. It was a nice night. In the distance there was a hill and on top of the hill a light. It was beautiful.

I've been so uninspired to write about things lately. Everything seems so uninteresting, but when I look at my paintings with a fresh set of eyes I realize that each one of them really means something, even if I didn't mean for it to in the beginning. Each picture reminds me of a place or a person. Some even symbolize who I believe myself to be or how I've changed and stayed the same. Art has been so much more to me than I really imagined it to be. When I was growing up I took a few drawing classes but they wanted perfection and pushed us so hard, so I faked sick enough times to not have to go back. Then a few years ago I took on an art appreciation class that inspired me to draw again. I realized that the best artists were messed up in the head far worse than me. I taught myself not to be careful and not to be mindful of other peoples opinions of my work. They made me happy and that's all that mattered. They mean something to me, and how anyone else perceives them is up to them, but one thing they will not be is perfect. Kind of like me.