I was so angry at myself, so the first ten layers were filled with aggression. I layered layer after layer of paint, scrapping it with trowels and wood and fingernails. Very radiant in patters but needless to say, I bit the heck out of that wood for two hours. Wet on wet, constantly building up and tearing it down, scraping and painting, scraping and painting until the aggression had all left me and then the sadness of upsetting my baby set in. Colors now, I started to blend and move smoothly, colors together on top of the aggressive layers, still allowing every stage to be shown, keeping some parts visible and blotting out with smoothing color paint. Because music was our strongest bond and means of communicating, I started to visualize a sound wire pattern dissenting the middle of the work, first with paint, then with nails and wire I assembled the oval pattern, grinding bits and pieces from my bags of parts. I began to create tension as if it was a stringed instrument emerging throughout the work. Few sentimental parts and words from the Low song that has and still has affected me greatly. Go online, put his name in, and all his art and gallery is there for you: Neil Simon Poyuzina or Art Slave. Distinction Gallery has pictures of his last show.
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