5" x 7" oil on board
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I alternate between loving my paintings and hating them. How did painting become my passion? I'm not even sure. I don't have anything new to say or innovative to offer, so why do I do it? I wonder if I should focus my energy on something worthwhile like being a good dad or a better teacher?
I painted this on one of the many days sprinkled throughout the year that remind me of death and the brevity of life. In this case, the anniversary of my dad's death, which sometimes coincides with Mother's Day, reminding me of my mom's death. But instead of cracking a beer and sitting on the couch in the dark, I painted. And I thought about life.
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