(It's time for a painter rant. If you're here for the TF stuff, you can move on. I'll have botporn for you in a few days)

I hate concrete. [link]

Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

I've worked with difficult canvases before. Huge monstrosities that can only be tamed with patience, determination, and gallons of cheap acrylic, but this is a different beast. It's just you and the floor. A cold, unforgiving, back breaking, ass numbing, leg throbbing, concrete floor. You can't find a comfortable position. You can't hold your hand right. Your glasses fall off your nose. You're spending waaaaaay too long crouched over with a heat gun trying to get certain sections to dry so you can move on. And by the time your body finally tells you that it's time you called it quits, you realize that it took you hours to paint little green leaves on those trees.

And by hours I mean almost all damn day.

Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

I can't wait to be done with it.

I want my stretched canvas back.