Sometimes I close hot my eyes...

*Artwork shown in environment (with plants, desk, etc.) is not actual size.

Sometimes I close my eyes...

A fine art reproduction of an original 16x20 acrylic painting on canvas. This reproduction is professionally printed on hot fine art watercolor paper. Why did I choose this type of paper? Watercolor paper is usually thick and the medium texture of this particular paper adds a nice touch to closer reflect the qualities of the original. Each reproduction will be signed, dated (according to month and year it was printed), and titled. This is an open edition reproduction. I would recommend getting this custom framed but if you're trying to save money, you can easily buy a mat and frame from your local frame store (I usually go to Michael's and use their on-going coupons). I would HIGHLY recommend bringing the reproduction with you when shopping, that way you won't be disappointed when you get home and realize, "hey that's not the right size!"

- Paper Size: 14"x 11" Image Size: ¼” border around edges (total image a bit smaller than 14x11)
- Fine art watercolor paper
- Signed, Dated (according to print date), and Titled

What inspired the original artwork?

Vintage photo from Seattle.

“Sometimes I close my eyes, listen to the sounds and when I open my eyes again I like to pretend that I don't know where I am or what day or year it is; like my consciousness drifted off somewhere then snapped me back into this body.” I sat in the chair in my room. With the sun shining in through the window, I closed my eyes and stopped thinking. The noise in my head silenced until all I could hear were the birds chirping and leaves rustling in the light wind. As long as I could hold back my thoughts like my breathe underwater, I popped my eyes open and wondered what it would be like if my consciousness traveled to the future in a matter of seconds and then traveled back into my body not knowing when or where I was. And when I finally realize I'm back, I feel like I'm trapped in the good ole days when my parents are alive and laughing, I have food in my stomach, a roof over my head, and am consciously grateful for the resources at hand and the love that surrounds me. The next step is to not let all of it go to waste, otherwise it means nothing.