October 2nd, the second day of the rest of your life

I like paint. Paint is good. What a great medium. Paint a picture, paint your house, paint lines in the road. Spray it, brush it, roll it, splatter it, smear it, blend it, mix it. Revitalize a run down home with a brush and a can of colored goo... paint! Give something new life. Brighten or darken. Stripes, dots, pattern, texture - tactile, visual and visceral. Control of the masses and expression of the few. Paint. A carrier and a pigment. Oil and Water. Oil and Acrylic. Paint the town red. Paint the town brown. Noun and verb. Finger and Face and War. Structure and order. Chaos and imagination. Pollock. Degas. Renoir. Latex. House. Wagner. Glidden. Primer. Tinted. Hue. Warm Cool. Alizarin Crimson. Pthalo blue. Paint! Paint a house with paint then paint a painting of the house with paint. Paint! Everywhere, paint. Graffiti. Enamel. Gloss. Matte. Dull. Eggshell. Crackle. Layer. Fanbrush. It's good stuff. The possibilities are endless. I used to paint with acrylics. Mainly landscapes of questionable quality. Inspired by Bob Ross and Bill Alexander. Put in a happy little tree. Fire in there and there and there. "Life is beautiful and creativity is within us all." This is beginning to read like Dr. Bronner's bottle of shampoo, and that's OK. Find some paint and paint. Paint a wall. On a canvas. An artist from my hometown used to paint on paper bags. It was brilliant stuff. Paint! This is an order. Find some paint, carve out fifteen minutes and make your mark. It's powerful. It's delicate. It's everywhere you want to be. Paint a smiley face. Paint some thing. Microsoft Paint does not count. On your mark, GO.