Art from the Closet: Resurrected Paintings and Second Chances

This post is part of the “Resurrected Paintings” series—where unfinished work finds its way back and becomes something new.

There is a particular kind of closet in my life. It doesn’t just hold coats, or shoes, or the usual forgotten things. It holds unfinished paintings.

A few of the paintings that have been hanging out in the magical closet.

Inside are my resurrected paintings.

Not abandoned. Not forgotten. Just waiting.

Some are animals. A bear, a shark, and others with personalities still unfolding.

Some are landscapes. Beach scenes and open horizons.

Some are objects. Like trains carrying a sense of movement and direction.

And some are simply ideas I haven’t fully figured out yet.

Each one was started with intention.

And each one was set aside for a reason.

Sometimes I couldn’t figure out how to finish them. Sometimes I grew tired of working on them. Sometimes the original idea stopped holding together. And sometimes the reason simply disappeared.

So they waited.

And over time, they stayed there—quietly holding their place until the moment felt right to return.

This is the beginning of a new series.

A closer look at the work that waits. At the ideas that pause instead of end. At the quiet in-between where something unfinished becomes something possible again.

These are the resurrected paintings.

And one by one, they are finding their way back.

Recently, I pulled the shark back out.

I had already started working on him, but coming back to it felt different. The background needed attention, and instead of feeling stuck like before, I could see what needed to happen. With time, experience, and a little patience, the next steps began to reveal themselves.

What once felt uncertain now feels possible.

The shark has been waiting. And now, it’s finally his turn to move forward.

This is how the process works.

These resurrected paintings aren’t just unfinished. They are waiting for the right moment, the right perspective, the right version of me.

I don’t know which painting will come next. I don’t know when I will start a new one.

They’re all just waiting their turn.

And when I open the closet, I’ll know which one is ready.

They’re all just waiting their turn.

Up next: the shark that quietly waited its turn.

Thanks for reading The 3rd Flamingo—a blog for art lovers, creative wanderers, and anyone who’s ever made a beautiful mess.