Why I Paint

A friend asked me once, not so long ago, “Why do you paint?”

I was so taken aback by this seemingly obvious thing I do, that looking through someone else’s eyes who was really curious about why one  (I’m assuming she wasn’t just wondering about why I personally do it, but why does anyone do it?) does things like paint.

Hmmm. I never thought about why I paint, just that I seem to need to  do something where I think of an idea and want to  have it, to hold it, to see it. Some kind of object, whether it be a painting, or  sculpture or piece of jewelry- I love to see it in this world having created it. 

But  I hadn’t thought that far yet and wanted to answer the question.

I thought about how it feels to be painting.  The focus, the challenge, the luxurious feel of the paint.  A form of meditation.  Nothing can bother me when I’m making something. Even if it’s not going well.  It will either turn around and start to have certain qualities which I fall in love with, or I can just throw it away. Nobody’s looking!

And the after effect of painting or drawing or filming I suppose on a regular basis, is that as you walk around, you see things, make notes of how certain colors vibrate off each other, or how  framing a part of a street lamp, for example, in your head would make a good composition, or you note the texture on a rusty old fence and think about how that would look  on a canvas.  It makes walking around so much more interesting!

I paint because it makes me feel good. 

I don’t know if I’d do it if I didn’t get that kick of energy when I feel that I’ve had a good painting session.