a new brush

Standing before a blank canvas.....

New paint pots before me filling my head with the unique smell of fresh acrylic

The white of a blank slate
glaring in its brightness....
Terrifying in it's emptiness

I am told I can fill it however I like - that is when the trepidation begins

a new canvas - a new start - a new chance

the hues - the strokes - the composition

all open to my whim, my desire, my will

I reach into my arsenal - the collection of tools picked up over the years

And for the first time I take a good look at my brushes - they are bent and broken from years of misuse

Bristles are missing - gaps and holes affecting the strokes I will make -
the lines I leave - the story I tell

angles are off - some don't have handles - some look in pretty good shape, but I know how they were cobbled together and just don't trust them to do the job

I take a deep breath

and slowly dip my hands into the paint - I use a new tool

I embrace the broken bristles and make a new design

watch the shades mix and mingle into new colors

my colors

The canvas fills slowly and deliberately

false starts and hesitation blend with confidence and creativity

It's not perfect, but neither am I

My hands are caked in paint - colors mix under my nails forming shades I have never seen before....but the canvas swirls to life

a new picture

a new day

a new tool


A new brush