Tuesday, April 5, 2011

what a difference some paint makes...

not in 24 hours, but a few more than that.
I've painted at G studio for three years and from the feet down, my space has been looking sorry and sad.

Since our theme collectively as far as the tone of the studio lately can best be described as "manic on steroids", and since I'd completed and delivered all of my paintings for the gallery exhibit, naturally I looked to the paint brush.

What did I see? Filthy, dirty, paint dribbled (and not in a Jackson Pollock-y way) floors.

I hit the paint closet and blended a color as close to the floor color as possible and of course like a good painter, cut in the edges and began.

Half way through painting my space, on my knees, I lifted my head and looked at what I'd done: Oh, shit.

The painting of the floor: all good.

The fact that I'd begun a project that would absolutely have to be finished to the end: Oh shit.

Well, I was in.

And this is no small task: Approximately 3,000 square feet of creative energy.

I have only two more areas to go, the conference room and the small gallery.

The floors look fantastic. and more importantly, clean.

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