About Water, and Drippiness, Painting

Two paintings. One half pint of whiskey. A rainy day, and this odd warm wind that shook the lingering leaves, and pushed curves along the river. The main thing about these two paintings, for me, is technique and materials. If they look good to you on the internet- I promise- they don't look that great in reality. Sort of flat. But that does not discourage me at all- because of two things I know:

1,) These are both about wetness. I am drinking, some, it is raining, some, there is a river, thick clouds, a wet place to sit, and most of all: these are in acrylic. Not oil. And acrylic is all about wetness and splashin water and dripping and rivers. And in the middle of December, there is this logic, that oil paint, cannot touch. It binds with the season, does not dry quickly, is liquid and abundant and splashing- and covers up things. Both of these were painted on old paintings of nude women- and so- unlike oil- this is covered. Though as a painter, all of it bears on the painting- it is not the same as painting on a white canvas.

2.) One painting has been worked later with moulding paste. Im not done- it still sits in the studio. its this super great stuff that is like sculpture- and yet- its paint. You can move it about. You apply it with a knife, cut it, move it, glaze it, sand it.

This is how my mother painted, though when i ask her, she cant recall. But i do. I recall a large blue painting, and structure to it, stuff, substance.  And i know it appealed to me, as a small boy. It was already in me. Its a bit like the blueness of Whistler and his Nocturnes- pots of paint in the face of the public- it feels like that to me- all three of us painting, myself, my mom, and Whistler, and well, Whistler's mom in her grayness, and the shiny bits of light, and sparkle, and blue. Same on the Thames, I guess, as the Snoqualmie. I don't know for my mom- Orcas Island , where she grew up? And the lights across the water? I don't know. Seems like its all about water.