Studs, Cats, and The Smell of Turp!

So I opted for canvas seeing as this diptych is going to be an important piece for me. After dropping a decent amount of money on all the supplies, stretching, folding the corners nice and neat, and priming the canvas I was ready to nail away! But my plan was thwarted by some sort of mystery material in between my wall and my neighbor Patrick's wall.

I made an inquisitive hole and still could not see Patrick.

After greatly disturbing Patrick by searching for wooden beams in the wall I could only find one and decided to wait until my friend Nick showed up at a concert being held at my house. Nick majored in art with me at Skidmore and has been doing renovation work in a restaurant all winter so I knew he could help. Apparently every sixteen inches there is a stud in a wall. Good to know. Thanks Nick!
Finally, I hung the canvas.

Lily the cat ventured into her least familiar part of the house and proceeded to rub up against the edges of my watercolors. Needless to say she was ejected from the art studio.

I started the way I start all my paintings. Lots of turp and a few basic colors.

Here is an unfinished study for the oil painting done in watercolor, ink, and raw pigment.

And here is the beginning of something.

Poem 6/19/10

Waking at dawn each morning

Re-dreaming and still screaming

I sink into a bed of lavender

And its lightness confuses my senses

Fatigue becomes elusive

Floating above the surface

My heavy heart anchors me there

The senselessness opens the well

It all trickles down

I ask the oil, "why?"

A need to be necessary?

An affliction for affection?

Their frozen words circle

In the caverns echoing

Perhaps only we know how

You were more to me

And now

Remain a memory

Nothing

So the stand-off continues

But I won't stop it

If you don't haunt me

Spiders will

Negativity will manifest

Its ill will

In you or the next thing

Time will kill the fury

But until then I won't rest

Searching for answers

Which must be made

And making is the one

Action that may save

A soul from loneliness

For creation is the warmest feeling

The created are my closest friends

They are my tender children

Who will hold me 'til the end