I once read a rather literary defence of drinking alcohol that pointed out that beer and wine were, along with bread and cheese, the very first processed foods, with a history extending back thousands of years. "When I drink beer," intoned the writer, "I commune with the ancients."
I mention this because I have a similar desire for such a communion. I've long harboured the desire to paint on a canvas. Their history does not extend back so far as booze. Still, who does not want to be at one with their inner Leonardo Da Vinci? But the knowledge that I would create something truly terrible to look at, and be such a waste of stretching canvas across a wooden frame, prevents me from seriously considering it. It's a mental block, you might say.
What a revelation, then, to meet the woman in this piece, an art instructor foccused on helping us discovering the artist within no matter who we are. To her, there is no such thing as a bad canvas. She volunteers her time helping those with mental illness and the work they do shows that she is right. Art Show
