Do you ever find that sometimes painting isn't enough? That sometimes you just feel the urge to try something else? I would never abandon painting. NEVER. But lately I've had the urge to "dip my toe" in the literary waters. I probably shouldn't say lately; I've enjoyed writing since I was a kid. I've had this one story idea plaguing me since I was a teenager (I won't bore you with a synopsis). I've been writing it off and on for years. It's evolved since I began it-characters and settings have changed, my feelings toward the story itself have changed-since I've gotten older and experienced more, I can identify more closely with the lives of the characters I'm trying to create, and the meaning of the story itself has become more a reflection of me. But an interesting thing is happening while I'm wrestling with this idea that keeps morphing into several other ideas. I'm becoming a better, more interesting painter. I'm delving into deeper subject matter, I'm taking my style into unexplored territory and I'm excited to see what happens. I'm learning to be more visual through written word. I guess imagination is a bit like clay-it must be molded and worked, and when it reaches that optimal consistency, it can be formed into almost anything.
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