Besides a few fleeting moments, I have not put brush to canvas in sixteen years. Yesterday, after a long period of deliberation, I purchased an easel.

I’ve been making excuses for why I haven’t been able to paint for a long time now: no space, no time, supplies are expensive, no inspiration. These are all reasons that work against why I fell in love with painting to begin with.

Art should be about a boundless need to create, no matter what the boundaries or barriers.  Whatever space you have, whatever supplies and gear you can cobble together, whatever moments you can find should all be enough. The act of creation is what matters, not the excuses for why creation can’t happen.

So, here sits a 20″ by 20″ blank canvas, ready to receive some paint.

This is scary.