I am not an abstract painter. While I love abstract art, I’m only good at looking at it, not creating it. I rarely attempt abstract art, usually only if I’ve been reading about it or have been otherwise challenged in some way to give it a try. Other than those occasions — which are infrequent, at best — any abstract art I create is nothing more than happenstance, which is a long, fancy word meaning an accident.
Here is one such accident I discovered this morning as I was going through canvases and preparing to paint. I saw it, I liked it, I decided to keep it.
This was very much an accident, indeed. It’s acrylic on canvas panel, and it was intended to serve as a fanciful starting point for an oil painting. When I pulled it out this morning, I smiled. I couldn’t imagine painting over this whimsical, colorful canvas, so I decided to call it an abstract and be happy with it.
I wish I could say this was intentional. I would have been proud to have created this as an abstract. Of course, I did create it, although it was nothing more than a fortuitous little accident.
But that’s what art is all about, right?