With my synesthesia, I’ll often feel a bunch of colors at once. Usually, they mix like light, mingling and moving in and out of each other while retaining their inherency. But, sometimes when I’m not feeling well, the colors mix violently until they rub themselves raw, like paint that’s been mixed too much, losing their identities. It’s like living in mud.
In that mud, I destroyed five paintings. Then, there was a moment, I don’t know what brought it on exactly, I felt this surge of indigo: a glowing ball of light in the midst of it. It felt electric. I felt electric. And nothing could touch it. Nothing could touch me. I existed there for a little while, floating, where I found this face in the blue. So here’s a little painting that made it through the void.
Oil on basswood
Protective gloss varnish
Cradled basswood panel comes ready to hang
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