Wednesday, May 4, 2011

The Zen of Painting

A good day yesterday.  Finish-painting my Broadway Our Way set, I had the Frank Lloyd Wright theater to myself.  Sure an air conditioning guy thumped in the basement and Uptown Players staff worked upstairs - now and then someone would wander through - but for hours, just me.  Empty theaters can feel creepy, but the Kalita Humphreys feels warm.  (Not in temperature, it's always freezing - what's the A/C guy doing?)  If this stage is haunted, it's by friendly ghosts.  Still, I ought to have felt lonely.  Just me.  No radio. Paint buckets.  Doing fiddly stuff with small brushes.  Instead it was...


Serene doesn't happen much.  There's a rhythm to painting.  An absorption.  A relaxed concentration that leaves time for thought.   Another rare thing.

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