Sunday, September 21, 2014

The first day of the creative spring

Cannas_from the Cape San Blas Series







































I have been walking around in somewhat of a daize as of late. Ideas come in bits of clips, it’s almost like trying to build a house when all you have are screws and a couple of wooden boards-nothing materializes but the parts seem to overwhelm you. I should be patient by now having gone through this process for so many years but it seems the older I get the more profound and extreme the stages seem to be.

I have played with multiple ideas and images in my mind, stories and poems need to be written out in notes just to keep the initial inspiration but nothing gels. I have actually recently walked into my studio after insisting I was going to paint this  particular weekend and when I am faced with empty canvases or even canvases well on their way to something I stare vacantly with nothing there. I even try to rotate a canvas out for another and switch to pastel but then end is always the same-NOTHING.

I can even force myself through and get to that point of pushing paint around but it is like painting with no instructions. I have compared it to someone painting by numbers and suddenly all the lines and numbers disappear. Than there are days like yesterday-a painting that sat there staring back with discontent and suddenly we are on the same page again-or canvas. I almost equate the canvas like a teen that can’t explain what is bothering them and suddenly we have that cathartic talk and not only do I know what the problem is now I have a way to solve it.


Urban Sunset
I sat in front of four paintings for short bursts of time and than suddenly within hours I have several different clarified paths that actually seem to be heading in a great direction. The problem with the creative process is that tomorrow they can all seem like disasters-it’s almost like the creative eye opens and you can see the details that the logical eye seems unable or unwilling to connect. Suddenly the big blob of paint becomes the shadow that instinctively knew where it needed to fill and the form that seemed so cryptic previously lends itself to the correct perspective and the right hues and values. I am about to go in and paint again-not only has this weekend brought lots of painting but my words are actually falling off the page as well-in the creative realm it rains or it shines but oh when it shines it really seems more brilliant than  anything in comparison.

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