Art Ho Days

In high school, my friends and I would go to a nearby park with large grass fields, lay out a blanket, and paint. I had a box dedicated to these days tucked in the trunk of my car, always ready to be used just in case someone sent out a group chat asking, “art ho?” In the box, I had at least 50 tubes of acrylic paint, some new, some taken from my mom’s old art storage. I usually had a few leftover canvases, but each time we made our plans far enough in advance, I would go to buy some more. This was our monthly tradition, together, though none of us actually had a background in painting. When I left Los Angeles and my high school friends, I packed the blanket we would sit on, a textured blanket by now covered in little specs of paint and pieces of grass. Since moving to New York, I haven’t used the blanket once. Maybe because I haven’t had the right people here to join me. This is the first summer I’ll be staying in New York and somehow, most of my friends will be here too. I hope this summer we’ll all be inspired to paint together in a New York park this time, but on that same blanket.