I began painting. In my mind I wanted my first painting to look like Alphonse Mucha or Maxfield Parrish - surely my fingers could do the dance my mind was doing. Dance, they did, but hardly was it a tango, more of a hokey pokey.
Then they danced again. I loved it. I loved her. I loved her breasts, the baby's head, and the whimsy of her softness. She looks nothing like she did in my head, but I think she is exquisite in her simplicity. Does this mean I'm lazy? Aren't virgin artists supposed to anguish over their work and despair that it doesn't convey what they are "feeling"?
I'm sure there is some lesson in this - like "try anyway", "find beauty in your imperfections", "share yourself"... or maybe it's just "get yourself some art lessons damnit!"
3 comments:
Many would disagree with me, but as a "technique" trained writer, my advice is: make art. Just make art. Paint, and keep painting. Commune with your artist's center, let it speak to you, and channel its message down onto the page as often and as freely as you can before the overlay of art lessons, "technique." Get to know yourself as painter, before learning how to paint. There is a freedom to your initial efforts, a freshness, that is breathtaking. Don't lose that.
Sorry to go on like this. Thus endeth the lesson. I love your blog, by the way, the pervasive sensuality of it.
Oh Jenn! My first comment on my blog - from YOU! I'm so excited.I agree with everything you say...there is much I want to explore, before I become involved in "techniques"... I love your "room" too. You are on my list of places to visit today.
I like the painting, but think perhaps your perspective needs a little work. I'm actually much bigger than I'm pictured there.
:)
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