I had a discussion once about whether or not paintings have souls. The souls of my paintings reside in each layer. As soon as I introduce my drawings to paint, they morph and wander in unanticipated directions. My panels inhale the drawings and exhale them in entirely new forms. I build up, sand down, and glaze over layer after layer. At some point in the process the painting transforms from an image into something that holds life.
My creatures do not deny the fact that they are made of paint. They live inside a world of paint. This is what gives them their magic and makes them truly alive. Because they are born of paint, they are connected to all recorded history. They are tapping into a well of creativity that has been mined for thousands of years. I dare you to tell them they lack a soul.