I love to breathe. Painting, to me, is equivalent to breathing.
So, in my previous live as an academic, doing research and teaching 10-12-14 hours a day, I needed to breathe. Where ever I worked, I found time to paint (breathe) during the day.
"The Horse Laugh of Death" was painted during the period described in this story.
One such place was the College of Veterinary Medicine at NCSU. There was a cattle teaching barn where the upper loft was not in use. Some storage, but most of it was empty. My studio, I reasoned.
Yes, it was stifling hot in the summer and frigging cold int he winter, but I could breathe. There was only one problem. Birds. Fowl! As I painted, they would release their bodily functions, poop to the less cognitive, on me and my works. this fowl critic of my work was unacceptable.
So, I went to the local Army Reserve Unit and they forwarded me to State Surplus. Now why State Surpluses would have parachutes, I have no earthly answer. But, they did. This, my answer to my critics, bloomed.
Some friends of mine, students who needed brownie-points, helped me nail the chute to the barn rafters and, voila, the criticism was silenced. I breathed in peace and survived to help establish the new vet school.
While I always got pleasure from painting, even as a child hiding my work from my parents, for years I never knew why I felt the way I did. In this barn oasis, I learned why.
As the conscious mind is occupied with a concrete task, it can be gently moved aside, letting something have it's enlightening impact. What that "something" is, however, is perhaps debatable. Some said I was communicating with the unconscious. Some said it was with "God". Some, perhaps (then) the majority, thought it was a load of crap, but remained (mostly) silent.
Who knows, but that feeling that arises in me of the "other" or the "something" is why I gain joy from painting, and feel all should paint to find out their version of that meaning for themselves. You might be surprised by the "something" you find within you, when you finally allow yourself the space to "breathe".