This summer, I made a connection that some of my color ideas are rooted in my early obsession with crayons and coloring, always boxes of them on hand, vibrant to murky, ones worn to stumps and others still pointy. I keep a coffee can of dusty Crayolas in my studio that I don’t use, I thought I was saving them for somebody.
But now I know why they’re here. After I made this new painting, I found crayons to match what I'd mixed. A color prescription. Closing my eyes, I smell wax on my hand.
24x24” acrylic on canvas.
Leave a Reply.