Ruined

Such a potent word. I won't riff on all the possibilities here. You can do that for me.

The specific ruin I'm talking about is a tiny painting of my kitty. I messed it up. How you might ask? Well, it's easy to give the knee jerk reasons: not enough knowledge, couldn't leave well-enough alone, blah x 3.

But it's not that. I invited ruin. I was willing to fuck up a perfectly lovely little drawing and painting of my tender little guy. Not a small thing since it really was a very nice beginning which I could have left alone. I liked it enough to give it some time to see if I could call it "done" and send it off. Not yet. More to learn.

That's the program. You can call it process, you can call it faith, you can call it failure. I'm not concerned about the name right now. It's some graphite followed by some paint. Then some additional graphite and paint. Sometimes, the paper, drawing and painting works as I think it should. Then on it goes to someone I love. Then, more drawing, more painting, more ruin.