Hopelessly Quixotic Me

I’m just a poor boy from a poor family. ..

I’m sure psychologists have it written in their play books somewhere that guys like me are hopeless, naive and incurable romantics.

I was taken to a shrink at an early age – about eight or so – because I was obsessed with drawing and painting perfectly 3-dimensional crucifixes. Not sure what all the fuss was about, but at the end of the day it was determined that I simply had a unique talent for art. I could draw horses and wildlife, architecture and cars like nobody’s business, but I was also very interested in abstract expressionism.

It is something that haunts and never leaves me. Like it or not,  I’m stuck with a deep-rooted desire to make visually moving pieces. Maybe that’s all my obsession over painting the perfect cross was about – an oddly harmless fascination with powerful symbolism. Surely a healthy cornerstone to any artist worth his salt, right?

Whatever. All I know is that after a twenty year hiatus, I now find myself once again steadfast in my pursuit – and probably hopeless quest – for the perfect painting.

Maybe I need to see another shrink for a second opinion.