Learning to trust the process
So... I was late getting into the studio today, and the results are predictably less than pleasing: I would definitely call this a work in progress.
There are so many things in it that don't work for me: the vertical red bar is tilted, the design is way too centered, too balanced; the yellows have too much green in them... And it's a classic example of what happens when I approach the canvas with a specific idea in mind -- which is why I am so reluctant to claim the title of artist.
I guess it seems to me that a TRUE artist would be able to approach the canvas with a vision in mind and actually achieve that objective. For me, however, things only seem to turn out well when I approach with no expectations whatever and just let the spirit of the moment guide me. Which then seems to me to mean that I am not the artist, I am just the hand that wields the brush... Certainly those experiences tend to be far more satisfying than the ones where I actually have an idea of what I hope to accomplish.
But -- in the interest of staying upbeat about things in these trying times -- I think I'll just applaud myself for making time to paint, for trying to stretch my color palette away from the blues a bit (note to self; I don't think I'll use THESE together again, though they're at least a little more appealing than yesterday's mud), for attempting yet again to paint a skinny vertical canvas (I am rarely successful with this particular dimension), and for adding yet more texture to an existing canvas. Eventually it will become what it was meant to be: I believe that as solidly as I believe our country will eventually recover its health and moral stance.
In the meantime, though, I think, once it dries, I'm gonna scribble all over it; treat it like the practice/experiment it seems to be. The thing about paintings is kinda like the thing about people: All the stuff that happens along the way -- strokes of luck, mistakes, additions and subtractions -- everything stays there, all layered up underneath, adding texture and dimension even as it gets covered up by new experiences. It adds to the richness of the piece and of life; it's all good, or, as Lady Julian of Norwich has said, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
Some days you just have to trust that's true. And yes, some days that can be challenging...
Learnings: Be sure your painting is hanging vertically.
These colors are not in my comfort zone.
Copying will not result in good work, only in learnings.
There are so many things in it that don't work for me: the vertical red bar is tilted, the design is way too centered, too balanced; the yellows have too much green in them... And it's a classic example of what happens when I approach the canvas with a specific idea in mind -- which is why I am so reluctant to claim the title of artist.
I guess it seems to me that a TRUE artist would be able to approach the canvas with a vision in mind and actually achieve that objective. For me, however, things only seem to turn out well when I approach with no expectations whatever and just let the spirit of the moment guide me. Which then seems to me to mean that I am not the artist, I am just the hand that wields the brush... Certainly those experiences tend to be far more satisfying than the ones where I actually have an idea of what I hope to accomplish.
But -- in the interest of staying upbeat about things in these trying times -- I think I'll just applaud myself for making time to paint, for trying to stretch my color palette away from the blues a bit (note to self; I don't think I'll use THESE together again, though they're at least a little more appealing than yesterday's mud), for attempting yet again to paint a skinny vertical canvas (I am rarely successful with this particular dimension), and for adding yet more texture to an existing canvas. Eventually it will become what it was meant to be: I believe that as solidly as I believe our country will eventually recover its health and moral stance.
In the meantime, though, I think, once it dries, I'm gonna scribble all over it; treat it like the practice/experiment it seems to be. The thing about paintings is kinda like the thing about people: All the stuff that happens along the way -- strokes of luck, mistakes, additions and subtractions -- everything stays there, all layered up underneath, adding texture and dimension even as it gets covered up by new experiences. It adds to the richness of the piece and of life; it's all good, or, as Lady Julian of Norwich has said, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
Some days you just have to trust that's true. And yes, some days that can be challenging...
Learnings: Be sure your painting is hanging vertically.
These colors are not in my comfort zone.
Copying will not result in good work, only in learnings.
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