Why I Never Erase a 'Mistake' on White Canvas
A big smudge of magenta landed on the edge while reaching for my sponge. Instead of sighing, it became the wing of an imaginary hummingbird.
A big smudge of magenta landed on the edge while reaching for my sponge. Instead of sighing, it became the wing of an imaginary hummingbird.
My art teacher once told me there's no eraser for paint, only new decisions. Ever since then, every splash that lands somewhere unplanned gets a chance to turn into a bird, a flower, or a firefly before I decide it was really a mistake.
Most of the time, it wasn't a mistake at all — it was just a shape waiting for me to notice it.
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