Doing Things Badly

The slogan or motto that pops into my conciousness is:  "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly".  So in the midst of this sense of doing things badly, I decide to take stock.  Not to decide the doing's worthiness but to attempt a reality check.  Comparing the actual to today's state of mind.  Creative blocks versus creative breakthroughs.

Listing statuses and number of painted pieces considered as concepts attempted but missing something during their execution:

*Left unfinished (4)
*Finished but not satisfyingly (1)
*Emotionally loaded in content and therefore unfinished (2)
(source example:  photo of a deceased family member )
*Designated as completed only because I stopped working on them (2)
*Still open to direction (4)
*Waiting on some (time passage) perspective (2)
*Needing practice on new techniques (1)
*Maturation required in my experience with painting this type of subject or style (1)
*Just plain uninspiring (3)

I experience relief that there aren't actually that many paintings in the categories listed above.  Further along now, I list:

*Works done for fun and/or practice (all)
*Paintings included in more than one category (4) 

It is important for me to identify trends or shared blocks amongst the pieces.  I am aware now that the items I do complete involve an experience of timeliness that is beyond my willfulness or obsessiveness.  I go back to a canvas more often than I abandon it to be left incomplete.  My interest now naturally lies in the education I receive during each creative experience rather than in the need to produce as in the past.  The process excites me instead of any projected result.

Wether the Weather

Having experienced everything from rain to snow to haze to fog in the past few week's time, I can say that the effect has been as if to be swimming underwater.  Given all the moisture in the air and on the ground, I suppose that could be literally true. To "get anywhere" takes longer both in regard to mental and physical movement.  Then there are all the gradations of cold; cold and dry, frigid and damp, cold and wet, cold and windy, as examples.  In my mind I think "enough already!".  After looking around and seeing no change from what it is now to becoming a suddenly warmer climate, I try acceptance of what it is now instead. 

I learned not to "struggle against" a long time ago.  It sets up a dynamic where I feel the universe is pushing back.  When the awareness of a struggle comes, I try to turn myself loose of any expectations.  Specifying the expectations I have for a particular episode of life that currently enraptures my attention.  This interior work allows me to inhabit the outer world with more equanimity. 

Template

I find I want to explore the use of an abstract compositional tool I worked with during another painting.  The tool involves a variation on a theme involving free form shapes placed interestingly on a canvas.  The shapes are then outlined in pencil or charcoal.  After the forms are removed the outlined areas are filled in with paint.  

This time while I search through materials such as newspaper for inspiration, I find an old interoffice envelope.  I know upon sighting this envelope that it should be opened out or butterflied and then used as a template.  I move this template around on a canvas whose size is selected for it's corresponding scale.  The large envelope calls for a large canvas.  I want to work towards creating larger pieces.  When the design excites my eye, I draw around the envelope's now altered form.  I use  the holes in the envelope to paint semi-random dots, almost like using a stencil.  The colors used for the dots suggest the pallet for the color range of the painting as a whole.  

I brush on one layer of background color and then paint half of the form before I run out of time.  I wish to continue and lay down another section of color.  The sadness I feel at this moment is relished.  I want to paint more and yet I know that to stop now allows a better end result.  I could apply more in a hurried manner.  Then I risk more time correcting what appears rushed or forced.  Instead, I want to continue to tap into the source that allows creative spontaneity to flourish.  I choose to stop and to wait until spirit calls me again.       

Postings Along the Path

In an effort to try new behaviors, I am spending more time out of doors.  Packing a camera and a sketch book, I have logged some miles recently by hiking in various state and local parks.  Although the weather has been cold, I am spurred by my re-discovery of the beauty and artistry of nature.  Usually I respond to freezing temperatures by hibernating.  Usually I respond to the lack of greenery with melancholy.  So being outside at this time of year shows me what I miss by residing in such responses.

Along the way of my spiritual travels I am often reminded that I need to fill my self with plenty of positive experiences.  The best kinds of experiences provide a lot of sensory stimulation (especially where the visual sense is fully engaged).  This filling up allows me to "coast" until the next gathering of the memorable.  It also furnishes me a cache from which to access when I need a boost. 

During my hikes, I also seek to expand my education using new practices.  Sometimes that means reading the placards posted along a path.  Other times it just involves consulting a map.  Often I get so caught up in observation that I ignore this kind of basic information. 

The image included in this post however, is of something closer to home.  It is a photo of the sunlight shining through the peephole in my front door.  It created the smallest of circles, the size of a quarter, on the hallway wall.  I wonder that I would have noticed it before, or that I would have sought to photograph and enhance it.  This "noticing" gives me an added thrill when I record even the smallest of beauties. 

Creating and Diversion

I attempt two projects on a day with low creative energy.  I do this to distract myself from myself.  Uninspired, I still want to make use of the time.   So, settling in, I add paint to one project.  Then, feeling a little like taking a chance, I decide to lay down some leftover paint  from the first project on the second.  When it becomes play (fast and loose) it turns into fun.  I don't even know whether I like the results.  I cannot foresee or predict where either project is headed. 

Nudged to recall past experience, I then sense that I am channeling from some creative source.  This source works no matter that it is allowed or even acknowledged.  The flow it provides is impeded but not stopped.  I invite this flow by listening to new (to me) music or books on disc during the time in my studio space.  Introducing other elements like these helps me to provide a diversion or perhaps a connection to the new experience being formed in front of me on canvas or paper.  New to new, it is all undiscovered territory, the music/audio book and the art projects.  They provide diversion with a purpose. It does not leave me headroom for second guessing.   No projection of what was experienced in the past can be brought in to sabotage the moment.  Neither the "that won't work!" thoughts nor the efforts at reconciling what is occurring now with what was visualized at the spark, successfully set down roots.       

Armed with a germ of an idea, another section of the first project is painted where recently it shown as white canvas.  This leads to further instruction.  Instruction to layer more of the wet color used onto the part finished during the last session.  It will weave the newly painted and previously worked sections together. 

Another now, a day later, the second project appears much richer in execution than the spontaneous use of paint would suggest at the time of it's application.  A review of the first project also comes with new insight and additional instructions.  Instructions to add similar contrast throughout the whole painting to bring all the sections together.   I look on these as two moments of grace. The largeness of these creative experiences goes beyond the little borders of the studio space or my human mind.   This sense of expansiveness provides evidence to me that I have tapped into some creative flow. 

A Magician's Baton With Bristles

Early in this process I rejected the action of purchasing expensive supplies.  I felt I needed an idea of their ultimate usefulness.  Buying sale or discounted items, boxed basic sets, store brands or lesser brands, helped to stock my studio space.  Also, buying the kid's version  of watercolor brushes, markers and pastels for example, helps remind me that this is done for fun as well as for saving money.  In gifting myself with some small artist's toy, the child within me is honored and feels cherished.

An awareness of past behaviors suggested replacing the pattern of having gathered all the best supplies and then trying to shame myself into starting that project which sparked the interest.  Usually the shaming resulted in my abandonment of the idea in mind entirely.  Soon I was distracted by the newest inspiration that captured my attention.  Repeatedly, all the ingredients were brought together for a great recipe.  A recipe that never makes it into the mixing bowl because the whole point was lost during the assemblage.  All energy went into research, funding, and procuring.   Remembering this, I am open and ready to try a new way.  

The idea that presents itself is this; observe what is actually used from my stockpile of "toys and bargains".   When needed or when able, I replace those supplies by making purchases of better quality versions of the individual item.  As this relates to paintbrushes, I find currently that the larger sizes are more pleasing to work with.  They provide more coverage than I've experienced before and force me into a certain freeness in rendering which I enjoy.   This freeness changes the details into broader interpretations of themselves.  Right now the larger brushes see a lot of use.  I could consider replacing them.  Yet, I have older rattier brushes that tend to be favored as well.  They provide certain effects, hold just the right amount of paint for the task at hand.  Maybe they are favored because they are already broken in.  Then again, the old brushes might hold as a charge all the creative use they've experienced.  A magician's baton with bristles.  I learn to value materials, as well as my experiences with their use, in different ways.

I accept today that many times the answers come when taking an action.   All the planning provides a sense of safety and little risk.  In wanting to learn from experience,  I risk giving up my need to plan.  Giving up "safety" for something more.    

A Little About The Pallet Knife

I experiment with abstract painting as one way to "loosen up". I find myself getting lost in the details of a conventional painting experience, using a lot of time and effort to get it right.  Getting the vision replicated concretely.

So, loosening up by working in a less formal contained manner is where I feel led creatively.  While working abstractly towards a less realistic representation I uncover an ever deeper sense of fun.  Since I usually have a subject or concept in mind I am challenged by the spontanaiety involved.  The goal is to let go of the hoped for result and see where the proccess takes me . 

Wielding a pallet knife allows me to play by using paint texture, canvas tooth, and chance to see what happens. Smearing a paint-loaded pallet knife on a surface forces me to anticipate what could happen next. Should I continue to spread with the flat side of the knife until it gives a dry brush effect as the knife runs out of paint? Can I use the knife edge to draw lines with paint or scrape lines in existing paint?  How about the possible change in appearance where two wet colors meet and mix?  Do I like how the new layers of paint settle in the texture already built up in older layers?  Is scraping away part of what I've already laid down needed?

The various effects are so interesting and fun.  I play like a child out of doors after too many winter days inside.  Then, I make myself stop before I overwork the piece.  The joyous part is that intuitively I know more clearly when this is happening.  At first I 'd ask continually for perspective, or step away often, or work on another project briefly as many times and ways as necessary.  That way I could come back refreshed and with a new eye.   Intuition and experience now help me trust the creative unfolding.  Either way I find I am pleased enough to finish or encouraged in some way to continue.  I believe that is because I am not doing this alone.   Connection and expression are joined during the adventure.