Yasmine Jewel

A picture is worth a thousand words. I am fascinated by the evocative powers of paint and photography. I loved art time as a child and hope I never lose that sense of wonder. In my teen years, I grew to admire the transforming affect a couple cans of house and home paints could have on spaces that had previously surrounded me as unnoticed, blah, ugly, or dirty and dingy, and the very ways they and I change with it, for good or bad, depending on reactions of satisfaction or discontent. Having to ponder what colors to pick, the effects of lighting, morphing into the consciousness, feeling it's presence upon the psyche, and the way those processes are always in flux, are all things I never tire of. Those wonderful ooh and aah or boo and whah moments. The emotions, moods, and perspectives it provokes. I bought a canvas that sat in the blank zen like state around my home for years, collecting dust, scuffs, and getting dingy like white walls in an old, time worn house somewhere. As of typing this, I finally painted it 2 days ago. Right before that one, I painted a recently acquired new canvas. Within hours I saw that I wasn't pleased with the results, so I painted over it right away with white flow then added some grey depths to it. I lo...