Requiem For A Paintbrush

  Oh Paintbrush, I knew you well.  You were such a loyal, hardworking paintbrush.  You were 3 inches wide (I mistakenly said you were a 2 inch) and were very useful when it came to gesso-ing canvases. In fact, that is how we first met. You were a class-required purchase, and on sale with the employee discount at Hobby Lobby. I was taught how to build and gesso canvases, with you at my side.  You were quick to learn as well, and applied a smooth, even coat to every canvas placed in front of you.

But you quickly picked up more than that. For any large area that needed a good blending, you were there. You were the king of skies, merging the purples to the blues, to the whites.  They always turned out smooth, as if pulled from the sky itself.

You were not daunted by the size of a canvas, in fact, the bigger canvas, the better. Large work spaces were your forte.  You were not cowed by the fine detail from the small, itty bitty liner brushes; they could fill in the flower petals in the fine field you could create.  There had to be you, before there was them.

You wore your dried paint and gesso marks well.  It showed your character, the number of pieces you assisted on.  And you always owned the gesso.  I had to look today, for a brush to take on your duties. This new brush was also on sale, though not on employee discount. Those days are passed.  This brush will be adequate, but not the same. It will not have the handling ease you possessed, or the thickness of bristles.  They just don't make brushes like you anymore.  But it was those very bristles that did you in. I wish I could glue them back!

Good Paintbrushes don't die. They simply loose their bristles.