I love painting. It calms me down. It makes sense of chaos, or at least makes it beautiful.
So, today when I has having a mini freak out, I stole my roommate's paint so I could calm down.
This is what came of it.
The floor afterward:
Cleaning the muffin pan:
Finished projects [The quality is somewhat juvenile, but my art is meant to be therapeutic more than anything else]:
This is actually just a small section of a painting, but I thought the rest looked pretty stupid.
I love this one:
This idea came to me a couple weeks ago. If I do it again, I'm going to have the fingertips turning skin colored, like life is coming back into them.
I'm probably going to put a quote of some sort in the corner of this. Either lyrics from the Beatles' Blackbird, or something from Matthew 6 or Luke 12.