Thursday, July 10, 2008

Problem Child....

That would be my painting, not my actual child.
I still have three paintings to get done within the next three weeks, to fulfill my goal of what I wanted to hang. If I don't make it, oh well. I know me well enough to know that it is still possible, because I like painting "wholes" in one or two sittings whenever possible anyway. I tend to trust my gut when painting more than anything. It usually just has to seem right. That old thing about "you'll know when it's done" is very true for me. The muse has hit...but the time has still not quite presented itself.
However....
one of my "hold ups" has finally finished itself.
I don't know if I can explain this painting, but I want to try. It has been the bane of my existence for a few months now. Definitely not something that happened in one or two sittings. It started out my wanting to play with textures again. But all that texture was eventually what slipped me up. I could never quite get a handle on it. I had fun with it, but I started from the wrong place by starting with the texture and not with the idea, or the color. My husband knew this but I did not want to listen to him. At one point I thought I was done. It was very abstract. Then I would stare at it day after day and I hated it. I attacked it again. Eventually it became this explosion that I felt was crying out for an object. I could not let my brain wrap around it remaining completely abstract for some reason. It was as if it was actually calling for a figure even though no figure was there. Then I had this idea it needed a flower type object. That didn't work. But in creating that is where the swirls came in. Sometimes I think I use those swirls too much...and I sometimes struggle with that. But they seem to like to keep popping up out of my hands when I least expect it. Sometimes they are more prevalent in paintings than in others....but one or two usually make their way out of my mind. And then that's where the figure came in. Only I had applied so much freaking texture to this thing that trying to add in a "smooth" figure at this juncture was almost impossible. Now I realized that I had, indeed, "overworked" the painting. But I didn't care. For me, it was that the painting was finally saying something. Maybe no one else will be able to "see" that, but it turned and became only a matter of fine tuning it and then it was done. I just finished it night before last. Actually, if I had time, I would do another one like it....like it in that I would take that much time to wrestle with it. But I have to concentrate more fully on finishing this other stuff which has their own ideas forming anyway. But perhaps after August I can return to this cycle. Sometimes it's such a strange thing to realize you are growing as you are growing, but not be able to put your finger on it exactly how you are growing. Capice?




And then there's this one that I also finished recently. It's an oil, which I don't get to paint w/ very often. I like how oils have a richer feel to them. I'm calling this one "Song For My Father". :) It has lots of personal meaning to me and me alone, I suppose. Anyone besides my husband and my brother know that song by Horace Silver?




I need to retake the pictures for these I think. It's interesting how sometimes the photo's don't do the color justice. The color actually looks more true in this final photo that H. asked me so sweetly to take.



"Mommy take a picture of me next to the painting!"

And yes, he got a hair cut. (Or as his grandpa would have said...he got them ALL cut) The humidity and the heat did him in w/ that long hair and we will just have to let it grow back out for the winter. But I do love seeing his forehead and his cute ears.

2 comments:

Alissa said...

The problem child processed into loveliness. I LOVE the texture and color.

I don't know the song, but I love the painting!

Anonymous said...

I happened onto the blue group on etsy, and from there to your shop. I love your paintings. Now I see. You're in KS too. There's a kind of beauty here that those from the coasts don't always see.