Wednesday, 6 June 2007
Painting tends to be something I do in fits and spurts. Unlike others who have trained themselves to work at something every day, I tend to leave my brushes alone for days, sometimes weeks, at a time.
This portrait was done during one of my middle-of-the-night spurts, abandoned in the back of a closet for a few months, and is now looking for a home on my cluttered walls. So far, it's been propped on the floor against my dresser, hung on the wall next to my bed until I couldn't stand to look at it anymore, and is now waiting for a nail in the upstairs hallway.
Seems rather self-centered to have a self-portrait hanging in my house, but who else would be a willing model at 1 o'clock in the morning?