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Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Okay. I was sad. I was. Koreatown was lonely. Doors kept coming up locked. Can you really blame me for calling her? For getting back into a practice which had already taken me down my darkest roads because she felt familiar, because she had at times, made me feel so known? We were a thousand miles away—her at Northwestern—me pursuing my dreams in Hollywood, how much hurt could it really cause? Twenty seven minutes and it was clear the answer was: a lot. What did I expect opening up an old wound just to feel the warmth? We never talked again after that night. But when we hung up the phone I started drinking cold corona and self betrayal. By the sixth I was warm through, and my loneliness something alive and in the room. The distance from my family a palpable thing. I remember yelling, no words just escaping thunder. I remember crying. Hot tears and anger. I threw paint onto the counter. I couldn’t clean up my life so I made more mess. And while the bristles passed through blue and black the hot wet feeling in my chest seemed to breech like a membrane and something fierce took over. A sense of conviction. A demand for hope. A demand to myself: Onward. Shapes soothed me. Circles with no purpose at first. But then, tears and corona literally spilling onto the surface, visions formed. My brush scooped faces from the surface of the canvas. I found two figures. I found hope crashing into need.
This is another painting that came out of me fast and messy and it’s one of my favorites. It started in sadness and ended in hope. I hope it always does.
By Zach Sheram
We pride ourselves on creating unique and accessible art for all. Pricing begins at $25 for an unframed 8×10 before tax and shipping. If you’d like to order a print, please fill out an inquiry form to get an exact quote for your piece. We offer free consults to help determine your framing needs!
Okay. I was sad. I was. Koreatown was lonely. Doors kept coming up locked. Can you really blame me for calling her? For getting back into a practice which had already taken me down my darkest roads because she felt familiar, because she had at times, made me feel so known? We were a thousand miles away—her at Northwestern—me pursuing my dreams in Hollywood, how much hurt could it really cause? Twenty seven minutes and it was clear the answer was: a lot. What did I expect opening up an old wound just to feel the warmth? We never talked again after that night. But when we hung up the phone I started drinking cold corona and self betrayal. By the sixth I was warm through, and my loneliness something alive and in the room. The distance from my family a palpable thing. I remember yelling, no words just escaping thunder. I remember crying. Hot tears and anger. I threw paint onto the counter. I couldn’t clean up my life so I made more mess. And while the bristles passed through blue and black the hot wet feeling in my chest seemed to breech like a membrane and something fierce took over. A sense of conviction. A demand for hope. A demand to myself: Onward. Shapes soothed me. Circles with no purpose at first. But then, tears and corona literally spilling onto the surface, visions formed. My brush scooped faces from the surface of the canvas. I found two figures. I found hope crashing into need.
This is another painting that came out of me fast and messy and it’s one of my favorites. It started in sadness and ended in hope. I hope it always does.
By Zach Sheram
We pride ourselves on creating unique and accessible art for all. Pricing begins at $25 for an unframed 8×10 before tax and shipping. If you’d like to order a print, please fill out an inquiry form to get an exact quote for your piece. We offer free consults to help determine your framing needs!