That thing you do on paper and canvas

About a year and a half ago I started a new hobby: Painting.  When I began, I imagined myself picking up the paint brush (I started with acrylics), and immediately discovering a hidden talent.  I literally dreamed about being a master artist while I waited for my paint supplies to arrive in the mail, and I was certain that painting would be the one thing I could humbly brag about at dinner parties for years to come.  "Oh, you saw my painting in the hall?  Why, thank you!  I just picked up a brush one day in my twenties and voila! Well, yes, the Smithsonian asked for an exhibit, but I just can't imagine they'd want my hobby paintings for a national exhibit." etc.  From the moment I tore off the cellophane wrap to my "art supply" package, I had the foreboding feeling that painting and I would have a bumpy road ahead.

I've always known I'm not the most typically "creative" person in the world in the context of art.  I like the boxes that we're supposed to paint outside of.  Having inconsistent coverage of paint irks me, and I end up repainting until any imperfection is rectified.  In other parts of my life I'm usually annoyingly carefree and easily pleased, but this is not the case with painting.

The first "painting" I finished was my attempted at copying a painted flower on a business card from Mexico.  Not only was I copying an imagine (like I said, creativity is not my forte), I was doing so with the precision of a five year old.  When I displayed my creation to Eli at the end of the day, he looked at it dumbfounded.  I'm sure he was trying to determine whether this was a joke, or if this was the painting I'd been working on for days shrouded in secrecy.  After a long pause, he said, "Oh wow...this is the painting you've been texting me about all day at work?"  I looked down at the painting, making sure I was holding my masterpiece and not one of the botched first attempt paintings, and was relieved to see I was in fact holding the right one. "You better believe this is it!  On a scale from 9-10, how much do you love it?!"  To his credit, he immediately wiped off his initial shocked and replaced it with a face I imagine parents have the first time their kids bring home crappy "art" for the first time from school.

Since this time, I have continued painting similar "art" with little progress in the talent department, but with tons of progress in the creativity arena.  And if for nothing else, I have a real personal appreciation for the role painting has played in my life thus far.  Too often I get caught up in getting certain things to happen just as I want them to, and forget that sometimes the process itself is the most valuable part, and not necessarily the outcome.

Words are hard

Over the past couple years I've written "first posts" to nearly a dozen blogs, but I never pulled the trigger due to a whole bucket of reasons.  So why now?  Well, I've moved to a new city where I know no one, and it's given me lots of time to contemplate...I've also exhausted all of my other excuses in the "better use of time" category.

Although I have no clear intent for this blog, one goal is to simply share aspects from my life that have been especially meaningful.  Having grown up as a very bashful, shy, and sheltered child, I've come to appreciate the unique and bizarre paths life takes us down. To anyone who happens upon this blog, my posts will probably sound mundane and generic, but maybe there will be a few people out there who will find some pleasure in what's shared.

One of the things that's kept me back from ever publishing that initial post is feeling an overwhelming pressure to make the first entry funny/meaningful/insightful/tasteful/interesting/thoughtful/appropriate...thankfully for all of us I've disbanded such ambitions.  And please, for our mutual well being, let's just accept the fact for now that this blog should never be used as an example of grammatical prowess.

I know this is a brief all important first post, but I'm hopeful that future posts will be a little more free flowing once I get passed this formidable first-post obstacle.  Here's to learning new things about a guy who's been sitting in a coffee shop for over an hour stressing over a four paragraph long blog post.