Iâve been painting a lot since quarantine started. Itâs a part of the creative output Iâve always done. I studied painting and drawing at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago and even somehow got my poor-kid butt into that school with a scholarship. Sometimes I share my paintings, but often itâs a thing to keep me sane, an art therapy of sorts. I become quite anxious when I canât produce something. With Set Design, Photography, Filmmaking, it requires such a large crew, weeks or months of preparation, so many conversations and many, many hands.. with painting, itâs nice to be alone and to create something that is truly for myself and no oneâs opinion is part of the conversation.Â
During college I worked for an artist, creating his work, gluing tiny pieces of paper to paper and painting in backgrounds. At that time, age 20, I found selling his work to collectors to be a bit of a dead end. Why would you sell something to die on someoneâs wall? Itâs why I got into set design.. design lives more broadly, crews build it, people light it, it exists in a room, huge and itâs used to tell some sort of story.
Years later, I realize itâs not the painting collectors bought, it was his voice, his thoughts, his way of putting his own life into something material. He was selling paintings to become immortal. Unlike the work I do in advertising, making paintings feels like the thing I can leave to the world. Advertising imagery feels cheap and I can smell the money every time I see an ad. But a painting feels timeless.Â
The other night I went out for an âInternet Cruiseâ. Itâs a solo-date I take myself on sometimes.. Itâs mostly me digging into deep archives of museums. I found myself on the Denver Art Museumâs website and I saw the image above. This image is from the exhibition: Women of Abstract Expressionism.Â
I thought to myself: Painting, wearing my coveralls or apron, this is how I feel most like me. So, painting, my oldest friend, is leading me through these times and I feel more like me than I have in 10 years.
After I finish reading Normal People By Sally Rooney, Iâll be reading Ninth Street Women. These somewhat forgotten women of the 50â˛s/60â˛s AbEx movement are more than inspiring right now and arenât they such babes?















