The pain! Oh, the pain! Pain and angst, I tell ya!

A gentlemen does not discuss his ailments.
I’m in too much pain to be patient, hence too impatient at the moment to be a gentlemen. I’m going to rant about pain.
My wisdom teeth were never pulled. The upper two grew in crooked, and are currently breaking apart. Add to these the agony of a cracked molar, made much worse whenever I dare to eat. There really shouldn’t be too much risk of that, as I’m a well-nigh starving artist. As such, I don’t have dental coverage.
Nor have I the means to employ a chiropractor or masseuse to work out some of the pains from scoliosis in the neck and back.
Likewise lacking thus far has been any medication that actually relieves sinus pressure, and the pain associated with that. I swear, if I was to drill a hole in my skull just over the bridge of my nose, florescent yellow steam would shoot out with the sound of a high-pitched shrieking whistle.
No one has been able to tell me what’s up the the other headaches, the ones that make the veins bulge out on the sides of my head, coming on so hard and fast that I gasp.
I’ve had slightly more advice regarding the recurrent ache from a collapsing lung. I was told not to smoke. A sound suggestion. If ever I did smoke, I could cut it right out.
It’s been said that the answer, the way to afford effective medical care, is to paint more. Indeed I have been. It hasn’t changed the well-nigh starving status, but the work does cause yet another kind of pain in the finger joints.
The only pain reliever I’ve ever taken that actually dulled – not stopped, but dulled the pain, was the one and only shot of morphine I’ve ever had. I hate needles, and am not partial to opiates, but this was a special occasion. I was having sharp things introduced to a very sensitive area, to insure that I would never take part in generating a little screaming poo factory. Even if I wanted offspring, I couldn’t in good conscience procreate knowing that the new hungry mouth would likely lack dental coverage, just like the old man. There are some traditions that really shouldn’t be passed down!
Being so dead set against kids kills a lot of otherwise loving relationships, so there’s an unhealthy dose of heartache to go with the other pains.
‘Twas the destruction of a relationship that inspired the painting above. I can’t say more on that topic, for divulging details about those who broke one’s heart is terribly bad form, whereas moaning about physical pain is merely unseemly. For that matter, there’s been more than enough of that as well, so let’s talk about technique.
For years, I worked with razor-sharpened pencil, getting in the most painstaking details possible. Moving from pencils to paints involved some growing pains. I truly dreaded the surrender of fine control. Yet even the acrylic works have come to be very intricate. I’ve worked quite a few tiny brushes down to nubs.
This painting is an exception. The hurt and frustration I was experiencing at the time could not wait for brushes. I worked pigment into the canvas with my fingertips. Ordinarily, it takes me month to be even close to satisfied with all the fine details of a piece. In this case, the work bled out in two days.
Emotional pain can trigger physical pain. If, looking at this piece, you get the sensation of your internal organs being wrung out by angry fists, and scooped out by a large serrated spoon, then you are truly living what I’d experienced.
Sorry about that.
Barring unforeseen catastrophe, tomorrow’s post shouldn’t be so personally horrific, so stay tuned!

2012 © Master Nick Roberts

To obtain an existing piece, or to commission custom art, contact me.

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