WIP Book

OPEN

Jan 20 2016

OPEN

No matter how hard I try I can never stay inside the lines. Even as a kid I would always look at my artwork and criticize it. That line there and here and what was I thinking at that point. So now as I am older I have learned to embrace my out of the box mannerisms. So here I am staring at my newest venture. The blank canvas on the floor. I look over at my paint of choice and smile. This should be fun. I wonder what kinds of patterns I can make, how much I should use. Can I use the same vessel multiple times or can I only do it once. A learning curve, that’s what it is. We’ll see how it goes. I walk over to the table and pick up the tools.

A muffled sob escaped the woman’s mouth around the gag that was firmly in place. I press the knife gently to her wrist and watch as the blade pierces into the skin. A bowl on the floor catches the blood as it trickles around her wrist and drips from her flesh. How should I do this? Use a brush? Or splash it around. No, I want something more personal. I dip my fingers into the beautiful red liquid and fall to my knees. I felt like a kid again doing finger painting. But this paint is more precious than the acrylics we had to use in school.

My fingers seem to move on their own, wanting to paint their own picture. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the woman crying and let the blood ooze between my fingers as I paint. I feel invigorated and happy. Nothing I had ever done before has ever felt like this. So natural, so calming. The color seeps into my knees as I move. A thought creeps into my mind and I grab more of the blood, putting the original bowl back under the woman’s arm.

I pour the liquid onto a clean patch of the canvas. Then I let myself fall back into it. Blood angels. I can feel the warmth of the blood against the coolness of the concrete floor underneath. I sweep my arms and legs back and forth and up and down. This day is turning into a big childhood project day. I turn my head and can smell the blood. The tinny smell excites me deep down. Now this is what I’m supposed to do, I know now that I have found my purpose. The child in me screams with joy.