Done Blue Moasic

Sometimes I can't sleep. Sometimes I stay up late anyway. Such as being a night owl. The dark surrounds and I flip on the lights in the garage. The humming fluorescent lights. The smell of sawdust from the last project. Or the smell of paint from the last time I worked out here.

This is a lovely space to make a mess, to hum along with the music pulsing through my earphones, to dance around the table and shimmy and press the brush into the paint then to the canvas.

Squeeze out the paint, swirl onto the brush, tip the paint to the black canvas. Press, slide, lift. Almost like a dance. Leaving a mark of color behind.

The finished piece looks like pixels falling in alternate colors. The finished piece now hangs in my parent's living room. My mom likes the blues I used.