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Descriptive Art Of Art

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I stand on the dense carpeted floor barefoot. My toes curl and uncurl through the fibers as I bounce slightly to the music filling the room. It has a strong bass that somehow simultaneously calms me down and makes me excited. I fiddle with the brush in my hand. The bristles are half coated in cadmium red acrylic paint. The canvas in front of me is half bare and waiting for me to add more color. I dip my brush in my paint cup. It is an old thick plastic cup permanently stained with various other paints after years of use. I enjoy how worn it is though. It shows how long I have been painting and feels almost like an art piece in itself. Holding the very end of the brush handle I roughly add the watery red paint just above the center of the canvas. It drips down onto an old trifold I always place underneath my easel for that very reason. I fill in the roughly drawn lips on the canvas. I wipe the wet brush on my thighs, since I do not want to ruin a towel. I switch it around in the water cup until it is clean, and then place it into a similar cup that I use to dry my brushes in bristle-side up. I grab a similar brush from table behind me that has a bit of a rounder edge. I dip that bush in cadmium yellow. The yellow acts as the unnatural light source on the left side of my piece. I wished to replicate the cruddy yellow light that comes from a cheap light bulb. Once satisfied I do the same with that brush as I did the last. The next brush I drown in a half and half mixture of

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