Yesterday brought a
deep sigh of relief and a feeling of having completed something that started as
a fun idea before it turned into a daily dialog with myself, running the
gamut from how lucky I was to have the opportunity to paint every day to just
hit me with a board and put an end to this misery. Sometimes it flowed like
warm chocolate syrup and other days it was like pulling cactus spines out of
the souls of my feet to come up with an idea. In the end the list of paintings
was longer than 90 days would allow. There are two I love just the way they are
and there are many that could be improved. A few are just crap (in my opinion),
but because it was the best I could do that day I posted them anyway. The benefit,
and it's huge, was that I had to quit fretting about perfection. With all
endeavors that stretch personal limits the true test was letting go of fear.
The creepy negative thoughts that undermine the best intentions are almost always
pure hooey. It takes time to weed out negativity, which I didn't have because
the next day I had to pull it together and do it again. Pushing myself for three
months without a day off finally wore worrying down to a nub, like what's left
of my eraser. I'd recommend this type of effort to anyone. Being fully present
for hours on end day after day pointed a big neon sign at the ridiculous
conversations I have with myself. Ninety nine percent of those negative
thoughts were not true and only made me feel bad. Focusing on a
relentless positive effort gave me a more upbeat take on everything. Fear too
often trumps reason. The quiet voice of sanity and the whisperings of the heart
can be heard over the pounding drums of paranoia in a fully present moment and
painting requires being fully present. My sister's encouragement certainly
helped, actually it was downright necessary. She makes me laugh, especially
when I take things too seriously.
Turns out I am the
worst judge of how long any given subject will take to paint. The shortest time,
the lime and coconuts, was forty five minutes, but I thought it would take all
day. The paint just flowed. The longest was #6, the still life of fruit, which
took nearly twelve hours and left nothing to the imagination. The most
challenging was the last one, which took about ten hours and a lot of time over
the last month looking at photos of horses, hanging out with my friend's
horses, sketching live horses in a pasture and just plain trying to learn what
one horse expression means from another (thanks Sherry and Noel for your help).
It took ten years
painting and photographing dogs to find that magic moment, where I just know what
will make a good painting. It will be the same process with horses so I'll be
pursuing that direction for a while. I can sometimes feel what animals feel, but the
exception was the day I went to a friend's yard to photograph the tame deer
that shows up occasionally for a bowl of snack mix. I could not get a feeling
for her. The painting might look like her, but for me it doesn’t capture the
essence of deer. While she didn't seem fazed by humans, I had the distinct
impression she could kick my teeth out with her pointy little hooves if
provoked, although I might have made that up. Either way I didn't find that
connection that gives paintings depth.
The horse, Sugar,
in the last painting spoke to me. She was alone in a corral after the Aloha
Week Parade and somehow I caught her desire to be with her owners who were
further away. I walked over and felt that spark that happens with animals that
care to connect with people. I took quite a few photos, knowing one day I'd be
doing a painting of her. She mugged for the camera like a runway model. Sadly,
a month later Sugar died in a freak accident and is sorely missed. Sugar's
untimely death in her prime underscored just how short and fleeting life is.
Worrying
too easily destroys the precious moments we have. Painting is a struggle when
coming from a distracted place so I had to let go of fretting about nonsense. I'd
recommend this type of effort to anyone. Concentrating for hours on end
day after day pointed a big neon sign at the ridiculous conversations I have with myself. Focusing on a relentless positive
effort wore them out. Fear it seems has the option to trump reason. The quiet voice of sanity
and the whisperings of the heart can be heard over the pounding drums paranoia
in a fully present moment and painting requires being fully present.
I have often
suspected that muses are more than fiction, but now I'm sure of it. When the
clock fell off my radar and time lapsed with no awareness of it passing the
muses were doing their job. Some days I did the work joyfully and others with
an imaginary cattle prod on my ass, but I don't feel the least responsible for
whether the paintings are good or bad. That is new, I used to have a hard time
with criticism, but haven't take comments about this project personally. One
friend pointed at a painting and said it was my best so far, and then someone
wrote and asked if I was having a bad day when I did that particular one,
clearly not on their list of greatest hits. I found my cattle prod and am not
afraid to use it, I think it is called discipline. And I get what marathons
accomplish. They push you to do your best while pushing all your buttons.
Money was not
motivation since none of them were done with an eye for what might sell, which
was very freeing. I focused on what I appreciated each day and sometimes it was
simply the way the sun lit a familiar object. Commissions are an important part
of my income, but there is a fine line to manage between painting what others
want and painting from the heart. Also I was concerned that if I offered them
for sale and no one was interested I would lose motivation, but that worry was
just more baloney that vaporized over time. The creative process is not
exhausting, it enlivens the soul and makes the most mundane moments come alive
with feeling, but managing the business of life on top of painting daily
sometimes felt like a burden. I bathed less than I should have because I just
ran out of time. I painted a bar of soap longing to quit and just use it.
I'll be making
giclée
prints on canvas from this series and will post the sizes and prices when I get
them worked out later this week. The prints often look better than the
originals because the blacks are richer. I'm also looking for a venue to show
the originals. Thanks for checking in, your interest kept me going. One of the benefits
of blogspot is that it tracks how many people view pages each day and where in
the world the pages are viewed. It has helped me with my geography since there
were countries on the list I didn't know much about so looked them up. Latvia
sure looks beautiful and I'd love to see Riga. A friend in American Samoa
invited me to paint 30 paintings in 30 days at the public library so that is on
my list for some time this year. I'll strive to be a better painter as there is
always more to learn. Thank you all for looking, I'll be posting as often as
possible.
All the best to you in 2012!
