After a busy summer with some or all of The Pink Mafia, my favorite month of the year has arrived and I am spending it with a new obsession! Acrylic paint pouring.

Below is my goal. This is my dream pour. Well, one of them, anyway. But I include it so if you’ve never heard of it before, as I hadn’t until about 4 months ago, you’ll know what it means to “pour” acrylic paint.

So, as you can see, you basically just pour paint on stretched canvas! Now, obviously, it’s not that simple, as I have found out. My first pours were, well, a mess. Actually a pour I just did an hour ago was a mess. But in-between I’ve had a few successes! Here’s one. (It’s a video of the photo at the top of this post.)

I’ve gone insane. I’ve absolutely lost my damned mind. I am having so much fun with this I feel like a 10 year old on Christmas morning with every fresh canvas. Floetrol (a thing you put in the paint to help it flow) is my new crack. I must be at Lowe’s buying a gallon of it twice a week now, maybe three times a week. I’m literally buying paint by the gallon now. (Well, white paint anyway.) I’ve ruined 4 t-shirts getting paint on them. My cooking apron? It’s now a paint apron. My book? Writing? Pfft. What was I thinking? Broadcasting? Dumb girl move. I’m no writer or broadcaster. I’m a finger painter! LOL!

Honestly, I’m a big dumb kid with this. I realize that it’s not “art” & it’s some kind of menopausal fever I’m in, but gosh dang it, IT’S FUN!!! It’s SO MUCH DAMNED *FUN*! I get actual JOY out of this. Like… JOY. Giddy, stupid JOY. I *never* felt that writing. I’d feel pleased. I’d feel proud that I’d crafted a good sentence, made a good mental image, etc. But “joy”? No. Never. And radio? Thrills. I got thrills with that. How could you not? Standing on stage in front of 20,000 people emceeing a concert with legendary musicians? Yeah. THRILL. I got ’em. I had ’em. It was a stinking THRILL of a career I had for 20 years. I cannot believe I got paid – and paid well – to do it. What a dumb thing: playing records and talking to yourself in a soundproof room and getting paid for it. It’s ridiculous. God bless America, right? LOL.

But this? THIS. IS. FUN. Just STUPID FUN. It’s not fine art. It doesn’t require years of practice and discipline and a “master’s” talent. I ain’t no Da Vinci or Holbein or any of those GENIUSES but I ain’t tryin’ to be! I’m just making pretty colors in a kind of organized chaos and having a blast!