Is It Ripe Yet?

This morning I was out in the garden, elbow-deep in the dirt, trying to coax life out of last year’s chaos. The compost bin was steaming, full of onion skins, coffee grounds, and the carcasses of forgotten lunches. And all I could think was: this is painting.

Creativity’s not precious. It’s feral. It’s compost. The more you toss in, your bad paintings, disjointed thoughts, agitated late-night color schemes… the richer and more fertile it gets.

“People say: idle curiosity. The one thing that curiosity cannot be is idle.” – Leo Rosten

Creativity isn’t tidy. It rarely emerges as perfect rows of tulips or predictably neat sketches. It’s scraps. It’s failure. It’s forgotten starts breaking down, emerging as something richer. Even when the bin is empty, the garden is alive.

I painted this portrait over a quick drawing of her best friend. I think they merged.⁠ Rockstar | 10″x12″ | Mixed media on panel⁠

So yeah, some of my best paintings started as compost. If it stinks, there’s something there, and it’s working.

Others just needed time, air, and space to breathe. Sometimes the pieces we abandon are the very ones that find their shape when we stop hovering. Let the mess live for a bit. Feed the worm-bin of your imagination. It likes teabags and egg shells.

What are you letting rot into richness?

What scrapped idea might feed your next piece?

Is It Ripe Yet?