I learned early on that it's not wise to pass up anything that presents a surface on which to make a mark. Thus, any flat surface became fair game for wildly experimental work and over the years I've painted on screen doors, dinner plates, plywood, car hoods, tennis shoes, and tar paper.
Like many unusual surfaces, the tar paper came to me by accident, leftover from a next door roofing job. A roll of the thick black paper lay abandoned in the weeds and after a month I grabbed it. With no clue for its use, the roll stood in my studio corner for another month.
One uninspired day, irritated because images would not come out of hiding, I cut off a piece of tar paper, took some pastels and began to draw. My first stiff-armed attempts ended up in the trash can, but, as I got used to the paper's odd spongy nature, some decent gestural images began to appear.
I stayed with tar paper long enough to complete a series of birds. Above are two that survived.