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I love painting cloth. It comes much more naturally to me than suits or armor or anything like that. Perhaps because it's more organic- more forgiving. With suits or armor and such, there's very little latitude. There are clear yes and no answers. With a flowing gown, there are still rules, of course, but the fabric can do this or that or something else entirely. It can surprise you. It can be translucent or opaque. It can be flimsy or silky or glittery or stiff or rumpled or ironed. It can dance in the wind or in the currents of movement. It can spurn the whims of gravity for the sake of artistry. It can look radically different in the light or darkness, wet or dry. It can offer hints of what lay beneath, however hintily your heart desires, all the way up to "well, she may as well just be naked." 

I've always been better at more forgiving shapes that offer such latitude. It's why you don't really see me painting vehicles or buildings very much. I might challenge myself to less forgiving subject matter when I can find the time, which, I never seem to have enough of. I can't pretend that isn't somewhat my own fault. I just love painting. If I could, I'd do this all day every day forever and never get tired of it. I spend too much time doing it when I should be doing other things. There are certainly worse things to be addicted to but it's way too easy to fall into the art, see where the paint takes me, lose myself in it, and forget the siren call of vacuums and mops and bills and phone calls that need to be made and dang it I forgot to get the mail and the trash has to go out and I have a dentist appointment at god-zero-damn-o-clock in the morning.

In any case, enjoy. Or don't. Whatever boats your float. Time to go do the things that are not painting. 

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