There Was a Leg Of Round Sausage Found At The Geese
It’s been a long time since I’ve done any painting, which is dumb, because it’s one of my favorite things to do.
I started off as a prospective painting major until I realized that I wasn’t going to learn anything in art school that I hadn’t figured out for myself. I’ve always used text and pictures together because I’m too lazy to write artist statements and it’s usually whatever is going through my head at the time. I once went through a rather traumatic experience regarding a painting I had held very dear: I found it flopped face down in the middle of the hallway after jurors selected pieces for a show I’d been excluded from. From then on, I rarely did any other paintings, and I only gave one friend paintings I’d done of him.
Last week, I felt compelled to do one for the first time in many years. My boyfriend’s 5 year old nephew Dom came up with the best line: “there was a leg of round sausage found at the geese.” No one knows what he meant, but the visual triggered something and I decided to paint whatever it was on the blank stretched canvas shoved in the back of my closet. Two days later, I finished it. I don’t even remember doing half of it; a lot of it seemed to paint itself. There’s a lot of texture in it and I like that. I don’t like to use either oil or acrylics. I like gloppier paints, and adding in little things to make it interesting. I have some dolls I want to use, and I tend to use up whatever I have lying around: stencil paints, gesso mix, illustration ink, whatever. I don’t have any money, so that’s what I have.
Anyway, “There Was A Leg of Round Sausage Found At The Geese” ended up being the very first painting I’ve ever sold. My improv teacher, Christina Gausas, was an angel and purchased it the very next day. I will never forget the shock that someone would want one of my paintings, and the gratitude I felt. And just yesterday, my friend Anna Margush gave me over fifteen new stretch canvases for me to paint things. It was the encouragement I needed to keep on painting; to ignore those long-annoying voices that art school brought forth like a toxin. Who cares? I like painting, so I’m going to keep going. And thank you, Dom, for the inspiration to get started again.
So. Let me know if you want one of my paintings and we can work out an agreement. Do I sound like a real artist now?