The truth is, I have been seeking solace in painting. The bold pigments of acrylics, the broad reassuring strokes of crayons, the abundance of cheap drawing block paper. I do not play at fancying myself becoming an artist, no. I have seen true talent in a friend of mine to know that I am just a hobbyist haha. (no inferiority complex there, nope. heh).
I paint for the sake of painting. To me, there is just as much beauty in the concentration & effort needed to produce a reasonable piece of art compared to the final artwork itself. When one musters all powers of observation one has to study a subject, and then to find the courage needed to let the hand roam across the paper to trace the lines, curves & angles in the mind's eyes, it is liberating.
I return to the real subject matter at hand now: Painting is my refuge. Refuge from the silence that has crept up on me yet again. The same silence that has visited me ever so often. I want to pen poetry, not lament on it's absence. Alas.