The result was a painting that resembled cells dividing, merging and forming something universal. I didn’t know where to take it from there, so I placed it in a corner where it sat for several months. With time, I chose to create a companion painting, using an orange and red color scheme, and it joined the green piece in the corner. This was the beginning of something, but I didn’t know what.
Several months later, I went to a museum and saw two works of art that depicted the creation of the earth. I was inspired.
I developed seven more paintings to follow in sequence after the first two, giving birth to my series. I depicted the separation of the heavens from the earth, of light from dark, and land from water. I continued with the creation of plant life, animal life, man and woman, and, finally, the day of rest.
I sit, eyes inches from the horizontal canvas, mesmerized by the liquid pools of color merging and repelling, gliding across the surface, leaving paths behind them. The paint dries, the water evaporates, and I repeat the process. Layering and waiting, watching. With a little urging from me, something beautiful is created.
