What started out as me trying to paint my father has now ended up being an old man with a long white beard from some dream I had last night. I put my face in this pic for a nice selfie to cover up the fact that I can’t make his ear look like an ear. It looks like an embryo at the moment. I’ve been working on this one mostly in the dead of night when I can’t sleep, or when I have to get up from sitting so much.

This is one of those paintings that changes as you go, and does so according to all the mistakes and accidents made. It’s like I’m negotiating with my creativity, and she keeps saying “no! Do this!” And my brush will move and cause something to appear that I don’t like, and then I’m forced to make something of it. Just like life. That saying is true sometimes— accidents often happen when you’re trying to keep them from happening.

And mistakes? I’ve got to own my mistakes instead of confusing them with destiny or some other thing outside myself. I’m built from every mistake I make. Just like this older man in the canvas is being built. Dad, I miss you. I promise to get your likeness on a canvas soon.