Has This Ever Happened to you?
Have you seen him? We all know he is there. The studio monster that hovers around your easel, watching your every move, waiting for the first opportunity to devour your work? I am not talking about the dreaded "artist's block," that loathsome force that inexplicably prevents an artist from venturing within twenty feet near her easel. No, this is no mere block. It is definitely alive - and very deadly. The attack begins quietly enough with some little interruption, an innocent phone call or knock at the door. Perhaps the laundry needs your attention or you decide to watch the television program that has been advertised. That one little incident causes you to lose your concentration and soon everything spins out of control. You begin dropping your palette, spilling turp, losing brushes. Odd things suddenly appear on your canvas - shapes and colors you have never imagined and never wanted to see. You raise your paintbrush in defiance, boldly vowing to fight to the end. But as the battle wears on, you find yourself weakened and scarred, the brush becomes too heavy to hold, and you are standing in the midst of paint covered ruins. All around you is devastation. The horrible thing on your canvas is nothing but a reminder of your incompetence, your complete lack of talent. Whatever made you think you could paint? Though a part of you longs to drown it in the river or cut it up into a thousand pieces, you can't quite bring yourself to do that - at least not yet. Why give the monster the satisfaction, why let him have a souvenir of your humiliation? Besides, maybe someday...
Time passes. The painting sits alone and abandoned in the back of your studio - and in the back of your mind. Gone but not forgotten. Until one day by chance you run into it again. And you think, why, this isn't so bad! It just isn't finished yet. All it needs is a little highlight here, a little shadow there, a little work on the background. Okay, a lot of work on the background. But it has good bones, it can be brought to life. And so once again you pick up your paintbrush - this time not to fight but to dance. Paint begins to flow together in perfect harmony and without effort. Then the phone rings, but you let the answering machine take it. That is what you bought it for, right? The laundry will be done tomorrow and it is summer so everything on TV is a rerun. You finish the painting, and it looks exactly as you had envisioned it in the beginning. You like it! You actually like it! And that is all that matters because all is now right with the world.
The moral of this story: Never give up. Never, never, never give up.
The Result:
Purple Iris
Oil on Gallery Wrapped Canvas, 1.5 inches deep
12 x 16
Available through Daily Painters
Art Helping Animals
Chisholm Trail Art
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