……………..But execution isn't always as easy as one might imagine.
Most artists find inspiration lurking around every corner, including yours truly. It seems there is a painting everywhere we look. Well, almost everywhere.
Our Southern Colours Art Association is notorious for finding ways of challenging each other to stretch just a little bit beyond our usual capabilities. Last fall, we decided to paint BIG self-portraits. One of my previous blogs includes a picture of me with my very large (3 foot X 4 foot) blank canvas just waiting to be filled with a very large me.
I was inspired! Without even trying, an image filled my mind, complete with a title: "Different Time, Different Place, Same Face." I envisioned a painting of myself as a child in the background and myself as I am today in the foreground. I could hardly wait to begin. I would first do the painting at one-half the size just to make sure my composition was correct and my theory would translate to an exciting painting.
And then the first roadblock reared its ugly head: I had no suitable current picture of myself and I couldn't ask anyone to come and take pictures because Carl and I both had succumbed to what was probably the worst cold and flu either of us have ever experienced.
Mistake #1. I tried to paint when I really felt like just lying in bed.
Mistake #2. I started with little Sallie Anne in the background when I didn't have the second picture to work from.
Mistake #3. I tried taking pictures of myself in the mirror.
Mistake #4. The only halfway presentable one (see above) was taken in our bathroom on a day when I was wearing no make-up and hadn't done anything with my hair. In addition to that, the color was terrible. Since it was the only photo I could possibly work with, I decided to use it.
The first thing I discovered was that little Sallie Anne was way too big and way too bright. Nevertheless, I forged ahead to:
Mistake #5. Trying to make a composition work that was wrong from the very beginning.
After finally recovering from my ailments, I took my half-finished painting to Southern Colours for a critique. Little Sallie Anne would have to be toned down. The more I worked, the more she looked like someone who had died and come back to life as a very sickly ghoul. I decided to take her out, thereby destroying my original inspiration, including the potential title. I forged ahead with the painting of Big Sallie Anne.
Above you see the half-finished painting. The crowning blow was that it was storming that day and, before I could close the trunk lid, rain blew in and spattered the whole thing. Was it God telling me to just give it up?
Whatever it was, I haven't touched it since. There it sits in my make-do studio, looking at me. Two guests have noticed it and commented favorably on big Sallie Anne while little Sallie Anne stares forlornly over her shoulder gathering sympathy. No one, however, has suggested keeping her in the painting.
So should I drag it out and work on it some more? Or should I just chalk it up as a lesson learned?
By the way, my very big canvas has already been filled with the image of my face that you saw in my previous post about that same blank canvas. I didn't happen to be wearing make-up that day either. But that's another story.
Most artists find inspiration lurking around every corner, including yours truly. It seems there is a painting everywhere we look. Well, almost everywhere.
Our Southern Colours Art Association is notorious for finding ways of challenging each other to stretch just a little bit beyond our usual capabilities. Last fall, we decided to paint BIG self-portraits. One of my previous blogs includes a picture of me with my very large (3 foot X 4 foot) blank canvas just waiting to be filled with a very large me.
I was inspired! Without even trying, an image filled my mind, complete with a title: "Different Time, Different Place, Same Face." I envisioned a painting of myself as a child in the background and myself as I am today in the foreground. I could hardly wait to begin. I would first do the painting at one-half the size just to make sure my composition was correct and my theory would translate to an exciting painting.
And then the first roadblock reared its ugly head: I had no suitable current picture of myself and I couldn't ask anyone to come and take pictures because Carl and I both had succumbed to what was probably the worst cold and flu either of us have ever experienced.
Mistake #1. I tried to paint when I really felt like just lying in bed.
Mistake #2. I started with little Sallie Anne in the background when I didn't have the second picture to work from.
Mistake #3. I tried taking pictures of myself in the mirror.
Mistake #4. The only halfway presentable one (see above) was taken in our bathroom on a day when I was wearing no make-up and hadn't done anything with my hair. In addition to that, the color was terrible. Since it was the only photo I could possibly work with, I decided to use it.
The first thing I discovered was that little Sallie Anne was way too big and way too bright. Nevertheless, I forged ahead to:
Mistake #5. Trying to make a composition work that was wrong from the very beginning.
After finally recovering from my ailments, I took my half-finished painting to Southern Colours for a critique. Little Sallie Anne would have to be toned down. The more I worked, the more she looked like someone who had died and come back to life as a very sickly ghoul. I decided to take her out, thereby destroying my original inspiration, including the potential title. I forged ahead with the painting of Big Sallie Anne.
Above you see the half-finished painting. The crowning blow was that it was storming that day and, before I could close the trunk lid, rain blew in and spattered the whole thing. Was it God telling me to just give it up?
Whatever it was, I haven't touched it since. There it sits in my make-do studio, looking at me. Two guests have noticed it and commented favorably on big Sallie Anne while little Sallie Anne stares forlornly over her shoulder gathering sympathy. No one, however, has suggested keeping her in the painting.
So should I drag it out and work on it some more? Or should I just chalk it up as a lesson learned?
By the way, my very big canvas has already been filled with the image of my face that you saw in my previous post about that same blank canvas. I didn't happen to be wearing make-up that day either. But that's another story.
