On Mace Avenue going south to Cruger, I sensed a Presence about me. Must have been in age about elementary age…maybe third or fourth grade when I sensed it. I felt warmed and happy for it. And somehow, I got directed to the building I lived in. Not to the entrance but to the grailling entrance to a vent. Inside that grayish metal sat a pastel set. It was for me! I took the grailing off and took the set and used it.
I think back on that event and it’s firmly fixed in my memory as having been that way at that time. And I am more impressed now with that guiding Presence than the set of pastels; but I can tell you that at the time, nothing was more important to me than that set of pastels, which I felt certain was given to me by God.
Being thoughtful, I believe I looked around for days to see if anyone claimed them and no one looked for them. It was right in the front of the building and everyone would have been able to see. So out in front was where I picked it up from in the later afternoon day.
I feel strongest about painting in oils. It’s the most sensual of all the paint media. You can glide it around with your fingers and make splashing marks that all work. And it can make itself appear glowwed.
But the downside is the mineral spirits to clean and dissolve. I’m tired of sniffing corrosives. It rotted my Dad’s olfactories same as it mine. So I’m out of that business.
Pastels is gritty, dirty and earthy….I’ll agree to paint in pastels….right-o.
Never heard this story before. Very interesting.