My students’ enthusiasm to learn oil paints has forced me to dig deep in my dark closet of past passions. It’s been nearly 18 years since I touched a brush to oils.
I have to thank him.
I had forgotten how sexy oils are. Get past the ick and stick factor and it’s rather like mud wrestling in color. Thick, viscous, carnal. Oils, for me are the paint equivalent to finessing a sinewy figure from a slimy lump of clay.
I thank you my dear student. Beware, for I believe I have seen you twitch when it’s time to put the brush down and clean up. A delicious addiction.
2 thoughts on “The forgotten pleasures of oil paint”
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