Painting is my medicine.
It fills me up in a way nothing quite can.
It lavishes my soul.
It cracks open my heart.
And I bleed my emotions onto the canvas.
Painting allows me to express what nothing else can. Even words pale next to it. Like a light bulb next to a full moon,
Painting reveals parts of me that would otherwise be rejected. The images and the colors and the elements merge together to soften the expression and form a knowingness, a transmission, that is palatable to the masses.
Where as words would offend, break, and separate, painting is the sugar that delivers a medicine pulled from beyond the veils of form.