Black Heart Valentine
I opened the bottle of India ink I bought over a year ago to make this Valentine. Originally I was going to make a collage with handmade paper, but I couldn’t find the paper, so instead I just painted.
The ink was smooth. I had fun pushing it around on the paper. It’s the first time in a long while that I actually just relaxed and enjoyed myself while playing with paint.
Since graduating from college, I’ve been trying to forget the anxiety I went through in painting class. I learned a lot, but I also got uptight. Whenever I paint, I’m concerned with brushstroke and painting-not-drawing. It’s like I’m stuck. Who cares how the image or the feeling arrives?
Tonight, Matagi said, “Maybe you don’t like painting – at least not the way you learned it.”
Something has shifted.