One of my challenges I make to myself, in order to keep out of the grip of the “big mutherfuckin’ sad” is stay engaged with my creativity. Shooting film certainly helps, and improv has been a life saver, for sure. But where to go when the unfamiliar starts to feel commonplace? Recently I decided to sign up for a six-week, online encaustic class. For those who don’t know, encaustic is a centuries old technique of melting wax and pigments, and then painting them onto a surface. In my case, I’ve been exploring the joys of laying wax on top of some of may photographic images. Hell, why not? I’ve already taken flame to my negatives and my prints, so it seems like a logical next step. It’s also a big leap out of my comfort zone. Back in college, I struggled through the painting classes that were part of my fine arts degree studies. Ever since, the idea of using brushes on any surface (besides painting the living room walls) has been foreign territory I’d chosen not to explore. However, the idea of trying something new with my photography proved to be too enticing to ignore, and I am convinced that I’ve made a good choice. It is liberating to brush melted wax onto a surface, then zap it with a heat gun, fusing the wax to the surface. There are myriad ways to manipulate the wax and the color further, and I’ve been trying many different approaches. Trust me, there have been many more failures than successes. But there is a sense of play at the root of this new direction that I find intoxicating. Or maybe it’s just that smell of melting wax that I love so much. It reminds me of the scent in the hallways of my college art department, as I scurried to the elevator to get up to the fourth floor darkroom, where I felt more comfortable than at an easel with my color theory professor chastising me. I sometime I wish I wasn’t so afraid of failure back then.