Space

I've had a very hard time with the new painting. Of the twenty hours I set aside each week to work on the painting I use about ten. Laziness, apathy has affected the quality of my work.

But why?

I put paint to board for the first time almost a year ago. Diverting from pencil, and sculpting a figure with paint was magic. I had so much to learn, so much to experience, I was so excited. I remember the admiration I had for the classmates that were already painting, developing their craft. One year later I'm grasping at straws to regain that same feeling, that same magic.

Some could argue that the kind of painting I do is restrictive. I beg to differ. Some of the greats of the 20th century, who shaped our notions of contemporary art were classically trained. This form of art allows me expression of the highest quality. So that's not the problem.

Could it be stress? Expectation to perform? Anxiety over an unfinished product? The interference of school?

Perhaps this is what Darin mentioned when he cautioned me against "having to paint." The expectation to produce brought on, not by a gallery, but by myself. It's no longer about getting lost in the craft, but by pushing myself through four hours every day to create something. Not because I want to, but because I have to.

For today, my board will remain untouched. I love this craft, but everyone needs space, even from the thing they think they love most. I've spent about 50 hours on the verdaccio and am about halfway done. It's a mesmerizing piece. And huge. The original artist, Anton Mengs, was hailed as the "next Raphael," and I'm reproducing his work. Pretty cool.

On a lighter note, I saw a Banksy.

Love // Christelle