Step Away From The Paint Brush!

People always ask - how do I know when a painting is done. Well... sometimes I know instinctively. Sometimes I think a painting isn’t done and I come back a few days later, and see if the painting is showing what it was meant to show. And sometimes a friends comes over and says wow - Love It just as it is. And sometimes, I just know that it must be done because I have done one or more of the following:

1. completely mess up a section that was working well, and then mess up another section the same way
2. take the painting to the mirror, flip it around and see if anything stands out - For ex: is there a color that is too strong in one area and not present in another?
3. look at the painting from a distance in a different location
4. repeat any and all of the above, and finally LET GO...

This particular piece, I had trouble letting go of the idea that it was not done. I think because it is a little more raw then I initially planned for it to be. But every time I fight the process, I know from past experience, I will ruin the painting. A painting in some sense, has a voice of it’s own. And to ignore that is to risk taking a beautiful piece and overworking it.

I have two theories as to why a painting can insist on being what it is, instead of what I want. First, there is a belief, of many creative people, that we just let things come through us. A lot of times, when we are in “the zone” we have absolutely no idea how what occurred on the canvas happened as it did. Yes we understand the mechanics of it - but the actual creation, sometimes that happens in spite of the artist creating.

And second, I create my intentions in spite of myself. My objective for this piece - was supple and beautiful. Both of these things are apparent, and I think that is what this piece has created. So by getting out of my own way, the painting has maintained my vision, just not in the way I had imagined when I started.

Has anyone else had similar creative struggles?

Note: This piece has been censored, so that sites such as Facebook might not find it in violation of their guidelines. For an uncensored version go to my website. 

For another look inside the making of art see Walking the Creative Tightrope

Keeping The Vision

I was sitting on my bed, as I do every morning, writing things in my journal I am grateful for.  I looked up and saw this miniature hut hanging from a hook on the wall that my boyfriend at the time had bought me while we were on a trip.  I don't think he realized it, but it's significance to me was huge. To me it represented being true to myself and my vision, and I felt that he was in his own way recognizing that.

Yes, I know, female circular logic!  But the reason for that - and the reason I keep the miniature hut in my bedroom is because I want to remind myself of the lesson I learned while painting two rather large hut paintings.  I had come home one night after a really fun date - and painted two huts from just what was inside of me.  I didn't use any reference material, I was just going with my feelings, and remembering some huts I had seen in Hawaii on the Big Island.

When I took the paintings into my painting class, which was filled mostly with women, I was told the huts weren't realistic because of their roofs, and that my islands looked like tree branches.  They joked that I was painting bird cages.  On and on they went.  So I changed the paintings, to try and address some of the outside criticism I was perceiving.  And subsequently, hated those two big paintings.

A few years later, a friend of mine came to my studio and bought a small sketch of one of my huts.  A sketch I had done that first night before putting paint to big canvas.  He loved it.  It really connect with him.  And I realized that he was connecting with my original vision.  After he left, I took those two big hut paintings out and painted over them - this time sticking to my original vision. It was a very freeing experience.

And the funny thing is - since then, those two paintings and similar images have resonated with a lot of men.  

So I learned two things from those hut paintings: 1) stay true to my vision in my art; and 2) not every painting is right for every audience. Just because one audience doesn't "get" it, doesn't mean the piece won't resonate somewhere else.

For another look at the making of art see Being In Flow