Trying to force fit a situation because it “should” work out is like brown bagging pastrami sandwiches to a Buddhist retreat and believing the dichotomy will be successful in the long run.
Some days are like this...
Or weeks.
Or months.
On occasion in any relationship, a time out is beneficial. In the exchange between the artist and the painting there are definitely times to step back. I could be the one to wear a bag to shut out the dissonance. Since I have opposing thumbs, I’ve chosen to muffle the work for awhile. It’s like throwing a blanket over a parrot cage. The squawking and yammering goes blissfully silent. When I come back to the easel, the image will be fresh and the intuitive message clear about how to proceed.
It All Comes Out in the Wash...
You know you’re an artist when you catch yourself sorting clothes by hue and value for laundry.
Matrix
Time and truth elegantly intersect to inform our awareness of how and when we’ve compromised our integrity, and thus our health.
The first pass of color...
“In The Hood”
My husband pronounced this “dark.” Good. That means I’m on track with the mood and delivery.
Anyone who makes art knows there’s withdrawal and cranky if a project is interrupted or we don’t make art for any length of time. I couldn’t get back to this one for a couple of days and was scared I couldn’t find the juju that initiated the effort in the first place. The first few minutes of fondling color and the grumpy smoothed out in preliminary experiments with color and value.
Some people use worry stones. Some knock back a few stiff drinks. All I have to do is play with crayons and I’m mellow.
I’ve watched and snuck up to place a few strokes on the way. Looking forward to some concerted work on it this week.
The second phase...
The next step is the large charcoal sketch on a full sheet of Fabriano paper, washing the charcoal for approximate values and an acrylic wash for permanent underpainting. After that, two coats of pumice gesso.