The other day, I was cleaning the studio (a favorite activity) and I pushed something heavy the wrong way. My back did something it didn’t like, and then the rest of the day was spent on the floor writhing in agony.
Although I’m pretty good about exercise, I’ve neglected some of the “core” of me, and that plus plain old stress must have contributed. At any rate, I spent the day coming up with ideas to paint on my back on an automotive “creeper.” Today has been equally painful, though I know time will work it’s magic soon.
I have to say, I have a new sympathy for people who struggle with back issues.
I managed to finish this painting, called “Buttermilk Channel, Brooklyn.”
It has a past, meaning it’s changed since I first envisioned it. The paintings always seem to do what they want, whether you planned on it or not. The back and forth of painting and the mystery of what comes through is one of the great aspects of being an artist, as long as you have enough humility to relinquish your control and let the art happen unimpeded.