My paintbrush is really a magic wand. It takes me to places that can’t exist. It shows me colors that can’t possibly be real. It controls gravity and designs reality. With a flick of my wrist, the universe shifts – sometimes in color, perhaps in shape. The paint is my incantation.
Some people fall headfirst into their favorite book. I leap blindly into my paintings. I go to a world where I can banish a tree or conjure an ocean from the desert sand. It may not be quite as simple as “accio, broomstick”, but it is equally as satisfying to craft a place just for me out of tubes of paint and gessoed fabric.
You probably wonder what this has to do with pet portraits and wildlife, as that is typically my primary subject matter. The magic still applies. I direct the sunlight and command the shadows.Upon a whim, blue becomes orange and purple is really green.
Art is magic, and I don’t mean that in the whimsical hipster sense. The paintbrush can resurrect the dead and heal the sick, even if it is only for one perfectly captured moment existing in suspended pigment. The paint can evoke memories from the viewer and create a personal experience that only they can know. It takes them to a place they’ve been or perhaps want to be.
My paintbrush is a magic wand. A magic carpet. A key to a portal. It’s a ticket to any destination anyone could ever imagine, and I want to share it with the world.
