A red hand.
Donatello for joy.
Michelangelo, perfect form.
Leonardo, boundless imagination.
Rembrandt, humanity.
Vermeer colored the light.
Then Claude put the sun in the sky,
And Turner painted the wind.
Dali’s flawless technique.
Goya depicted injustice. Picasso’s rage.
The beautiful mystery of Blake and Redon.
Masters.
There’s nothing more intimidating than a blank canvas. So where to begin? With me, always a gesture of bravado. Followed by stunned silence. A long pause. A conundrum. Now what? Now where? Another gesture. Another question. More gestures. More questions. An answer appears on the canvas. And I surface, as surprised by the outcome as any viewer.