I paint too fast to accept oils as a medium in my process. Still, no matter how awful and unnecessary, oils have provided a challenge to struggle with. After several months tripping over turpentine, smearing wet paint, covering pigment to mix it more drab, and torturing my muscles from tip to toe, I will have earned my masters in Painting Futility. No one will be able to claim to my understanding that oils are superior to fine acrylics. Where I already practice a weak rendering sensibility, oils just exacerbate the handicap and would force me into a meaningless and vacuous abstraction for the impossibility to render and color an eye without resting the hand on the canvas, and smearing the hand, and wiping the hand on the shirt, over the eye, in the mouth, cursing once, twice and finally kicking over the turpentine with my clumsy reaction.
If the hole needs to be dug today, (and I always dig my holes in a day), then I shall use a shovel (acrylics), instead of a dinner fork (oils).
The following painting was done in acrylics in 2017 with a different toy subject. To me the differences are night and day. I am not fooling anyone with oil. After the Lichtenstein exhibition I will take my degree and paint over it in acrylics.