Almost an Artist

Almost an artist.
As the paint was drying, he looked at the canvas. It didn’t look how he imagined it
would. He couldn’t tell if he was any closer to being the painter he wanted to be or
if he was just as bad as yesterday. He dipped the brush to make something that

would give it the finishing touch.

He had decided when he was 9, that this would be his calling. Many people were
impressed with his drawing skills, at that point. As he got older the “ooh’s” and
aah’s diminished. He learned that you can’t trust the judgement of others or have
people tell you what to do.
He painted almost every day through his twenties. Some girls found it interesting
and kind of adventurous at first, but as he ultimately was more interested in his

painting than in them, they all disappeared.

He was beginning to develop his style when he came into his 30’s. It was very raw
and real, in an abstract way. It was possible to think of him as a late Turner/Pollock
clone, with the eye for detail of the first and the intuitive ideas of the second. The
result was still found lacking.
On his 40th birthday he painted what he titled “Is midlife crisis a thing?” It became
a reoccurring theme and he began to simply assign numbers to the productions, as

he ventured deeper into his study of the theme.

Time passed as if to tell him how an artist can be searching his whole life and even
for the wrong thing. He wasn’t as prolific as he used to be, beginning to expand on
the crisis theme with similar themes like “doubt”, “uncertainty”, “fear” and
“depression”. But like the images produced, the thoughts wouldn’t quite come

together.

Now he was 64. But in a very different way than what Paul McCartney had written
about. His work was more like Beethoven’s 10’th symphony. In fact it as so much
in accord with the latter, that the stroke – which by it’s very name is an ironic death
for a would-be famous painter – marked by the downward line by the brush across
the canvas; came as an afterthought of reconsideration.
The end.