Painting

When I was in second grade my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her I wanted to be an artist. I didn’t specify what kind of art I wanted to create, but I told her I wanted to wear a beret and I wanted to travel to France. Using context clues and stereotyping, she figured I meant I wanted to be a painter.

There are other childhood memories I have about art. I asked for an art set every year for Christmas. Once when I got a booster shot in kindergarten, I cried so hard I scared my mom into a panic. She told me if I stopped crying I could have anything I wanted. Anything. I told her I just wanted a coloring book. Looking back, I should have went with one million dollars or a pony, whichever she could find before dinner.

I would dabble in painting in high school and I took one art appreciation class in college, but I never considered myself talented. I just knew I enjoyed it. I felt like real talent was reserved for people who could paint ships and horses. When I graduated college, I focused on standup and writing. But having been stuck in 2020 and the hell that it was, I needed to do something else. I bought some brushes, some canvas, some paint. I didn’t have a vision or goal, I just had some emotions. All of the paintings started out blotchy and blobby and not making sense, but I allowed them to dry and layer by layer they turned into pieces I was proud of. I had comedians joke they could tell I was “going through some shit” as I posted each layer. I can laugh at that, because half the time I was looking at them and thinking, I don’t know what I’m doing. These look terrible. I don’t know what I am doing. But I sat with them. I sat with myself. I would literally just sit in the room with them, not doing anything. And in doing that, I started to do something I haven’t done in a long time. I trusted my intuition. The pieces changed. I started to love them.

I am writing this for myself to reflect on when I need it. Some things are messy in the moment and all you can see is how they do not make sense. Sit with it. Sit with yourself. Trust your ability to change them into something you are proud of. All it takes is time and courage.

Anyway…

check out my art here. Drop me a line under “contact” if you’d like me to do a piece for you.