Slap, pound, push the paint to the beat of the drum. Freed from the brush. Smudge, smear. Tenderly I feel out the edges around each fingertip. Words float in, and float out. Some stay. A small mountain range emerges from the edge of the page and stretches out. Rhythmic strokes, circular dance. One hand, then two, then three emerge…Weave… weave…weave. The painted pages smile, they are the sun shinning forth from my hands.
If you are interested in this process, or you want to get your hands dirty and don’t know where to start, this may be the workshop for you! Next Saturday, Feb 8th at Imagine Coffee.