About a week ago, I made the ugliest painting ever in the history of my career. I was "experimenting", as Will Terry encourages us to do. There was cardboard involved, and Sharpies and acrylic paint and bubble wrap.
Ginny was there. We laughed a lot.
I have been thinking since then, about the ugly painting and about the aforementioned artist, who admitted that he could create ugly things, but then again, admit that he could be brilliant. It's okay that I made the ugliest painting ever.
Because in the end, I am a damn good artist, and sometimes I make ugly paintings.
And that's okay.
(And no, I am not posting a picture of that painting. It's just better if you don't see it.)