Painting is strange work: I walk into a room with all of the terrifying voices of fear and self doubt swirling in my head like a tornado. I pick up a brush, my sword, and start carving my way though the tangled mess to make a sketch on canvas. I enter the battlefield each day hoping to find something that might take hold. Then working on the painting becomes a game of chess with the void. I can't call it fun, exactly, but necessary.
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