They call me Second-hand Rose….

Using up the Leftover Paint
acrylic on calico
Sally Swain
I never get a single thing that’s new.
Even Jake the plumber, he’s the man I adore
He had the nerve to tell me he’s been married before
Everyone knows that I’m just
Second-hand Rose
From Second Avenue.
{Lalala deedoodeedoo}
Where did that song-burst come from?
Some quirky corner of my brain stores lyrics from 1920s and 30s songs and pops them out at appropriate or inappropriate moments. Gosh. Maybe I’m more like my clients with dementia than I realised.
There is a reason.
There is a reason the Second-hand Rose fragment emerged holus-bolus.
It’s because
I wish to share with you my experience of the little-known creative practice of Using Up Other People’s Paint. I have come to love using up other people’s leftover paint.
I guess I mean acrylic paint squeezed out onto a palette by an individual or group client and then left behind; left over.

Someone Else’s Palette
gives rise to fresh approaches
I wondered whether to associate this activity with a selfless, martyr mother role. You know the one…
‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll sit in the dark and eat the burnt chop.’
Was that a Monty Python skit?
Oddly, I like occasionally sitting in the dark and I like burnt lamb chops. Maybe this explains a lot about my eccentricity and (oops) I’ve over-shared here.

Using Up Other People’s Leftover Paint
surrounded by devil-may-care free squiggles
Swain art play
Anyway, I wondered if using up leftover paint put me in a low-status category. She who is too poor to afford her own. She who doesn’t feel she deserves fresh paint. Or is this a sign of austerity and not liking things to go to waste?
Oh the complexity of a seemingly simple act of blobbing someone else’s discarded paint onto paper or fabric!

Wild Second-Hand Paint on Paper Towel
Swain
So there might be an element of frugality, an element of not-deserving, an element of environmental consciousness, but I realise now there’s also a surge of creativity that arises. There is JOY!
It’s someone else’s choice of palette. It’s a quantity and combo of colours that you wouldn’t normally choose yourself.
You’re improvising.
It’s bricolage.
You are making something fresh out of the materials at hand.
There’s nothing to lose.
You haven’t planned, invested time, thought or ego into your artwork.
It’s spontaneous.
You follow the brush.
You play.
It’s joy!

Using up the Leftover Paint
acrylic on calico
Sally Swain
I recommend it to anyone.
Find someone else’s leftover paint
and go for it!
This made me smile – do your own thing, whether you are deemed frugal or eccentric. It’s fun to march to the beat of a different drum – I know i do it all the time. Loved the references to pop culture and ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll sit in the dark and eat the burnt chop.’
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Happy to make you smile x and hurrah for revealing our eccentricities. I could make a full-time job of that.
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I could too – it is good to be different and have eccentricities – it makes us stand out and be more individualized (… I think that is a word).
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It can certainly be a word if we individualized people believe it to be a word. !
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That is right Sally – I am with you there. The rest of the bunch are a like lemmings – do your own thing I say!
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Lovely quirky and inviting, since I started using throwaway palates I do waste paint. As for the chop lovely touch re 1950’s womens’ martyrdom my Mum would have said yep that was me ha ha
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Thanks, Janey. And yet…sitting in the dark can be so soothing. Just every now and then. And the burnt chop. Well. I confess a long-term enjoyment of chargrilled lamb. From age 2.
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Good one – enjoyed your posts!
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Thank you, Crazy Crone!
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