The Monkey Mind of Peter Durand

After dropping hints (none too subtle) that I was craving to get messy with some paint, my wife opened up this Sunday. In an all-too-brief, two-hour session--with baby napping--I got busy on some new abstracts inspired by some spiritual work I've been pursuing. I am looking a lot at Cy Twombly and longing for a massive, wall-sized canvas to attack.

Surrender on Page Sixty-Twoacrylic on canvas, 20
FYI, Watching paint stream and coagulate is very serene. (Just noticed that these are basically Steelers' colors. Prescient?)

ABOVE: The spread of supplies for some recent abstract paintings--paints, Expo pens, oil pastels. 

Each time I descend the basement stairs of The Mermaid House, built in the early 1900s, the tangy smell of dry wood and dirt reminds me of my grandmother's garage; the thrill that struck me when I ventured out to inspect the odd boxes full of brick-a-brak and toys from China. Anticipation of the unknown!

I am trying to loosen up my style from the chiseled, static woodcut style of composing (like "White African"), and incorporate the loose adventuresome application for texture and paint that I discovered working fast at Pop!Tech.