Okay, so apparently, not every painting is a smashing success. Today I wanted to feature my first photo on the blog to elaborate on how I suffocated this painting. Embarrassing, I know, but getting this out in the open can only make it better! So, for some reason I wanted to throw every trick in my bag into this piece. That was my first bad move. Previous to this one, I had been working on several pieces that required lots of restraint. By restraint I mean making more conscious, tough decisions and stopping to look, think, and examine before I make another mark. And to err on the side of not making an unnecessary mark rather than adding masses of them. But not in this particular painting. Argh!! If you can imagine- this pic is not the most recent stage- it actually got busier. Yes, it's horribly true. From this I have learned that I cannot fix everything. And, more importantly, I cannot approach a painting with a desire to just be brash and showy for personal catharsis without content motive. It left me without a way to navigate. Sometimes paintings crash and burn- but we painters don't want to disclose this. One of my undergrad instructors encouraged us to make seemingly tons of work, "because only 30% of the works are the really, really good pieces." Some things just have to fail in order to move me in the right direction.
It's funny how this failure in painting illuminated the relationship category of my life. My husband makes a visit to the studio, takes one look at this garish painting and says, "just start a new one." With an air of, what's the big deal? He single-handedly helps me take myself waaay less seriously. Yes, his read was simple and straightforward but that is why I love his presence. I take what I do so seriously, sometimes letting go of an unsuccessful piece is terrifying. I think, there is no logical way I can start and complete another work by the deadline. And I am wrong. My art does not really function on a logical level- it is measured by how much furious effort and intent I pour into it. Rarely am I not rewarded for taking an illogical risk.
I hope that I never take him for granted.
