It’s one thing to say that a courageous act is one performed in the presence of fear, but that does not persuade the courageous protagonist to feel large in any way. Speaking only for myself, if I do something that others might call brave, all I know is that I did something that scared the pants off of me. The fearless might feel brave, but most likely they are just nuts.
Canyon Lake Segmented, acrylic on canvas, 12 x 16," en plein air
That procrastinating blather aside, here is a brand new plein air painting that I fear is almost dumb in its simplicity. If you do find it to be dumb, I would appreciate it if you would keep that judgment to yourself, because I am feeling pretty fragile here.
I have to post this painting because I believe in it in spite of my misgivings. It is getting close to what I expect of a painting that comes from the true inside of me.
But there’s nothing there!
Of course that is not entirely true, I reassure myself. I like those colors together. I like all those crazy stripes. I like a view through a screen. I’m getting a good feeling from this little work, whether or not anyone else ever will.
And it does, dammit, show just what attracted me to the scene. I saw the texture in the bark, but I didn’t care. I saw little waves and houses across the water and pebbles in the dirt, but I didn’t care. I cared about only the stuff that shows up in the painting. To limit myself in that way is always something of a triumph for me.
But it’s so rough!
Not so rough as it once was, and after all I left it rough in order to display process. Wasn’t it I who for twenty-five painting-suppressed years exhorted math students, “Show your work! An answer all by itself is worthless!”?
Yes, it was I. And leaving this painting just like this was a conscious choice, even though I love paintings that are all finished and pretty, with the appropriate amount of detail—especially when other people paint them.
But I’m going to have to make some more of these.
I make no claim of educational value in this post. I wrote it all just to encourage myself to be brave again.
I have to post this painting because I believe in it in spite of my misgivings. It is getting close to what I expect of a painting that comes from the true inside of me.
But there’s nothing there!
Of course that is not entirely true, I reassure myself. I like those colors together. I like all those crazy stripes. I like a view through a screen. I’m getting a good feeling from this little work, whether or not anyone else ever will.
And it does, dammit, show just what attracted me to the scene. I saw the texture in the bark, but I didn’t care. I saw little waves and houses across the water and pebbles in the dirt, but I didn’t care. I cared about only the stuff that shows up in the painting. To limit myself in that way is always something of a triumph for me.
But it’s so rough!
Not so rough as it once was, and after all I left it rough in order to display process. Wasn’t it I who for twenty-five painting-suppressed years exhorted math students, “Show your work! An answer all by itself is worthless!”?
Yes, it was I. And leaving this painting just like this was a conscious choice, even though I love paintings that are all finished and pretty, with the appropriate amount of detail—especially when other people paint them.
But I’m going to have to make some more of these.
I make no claim of educational value in this post. I wrote it all just to encourage myself to be brave again.
RSS Feed