Sometimes, all I’m capable of is weird art. It begins with a concept that’s more of a feeling than anything else. Then I attach color and shapes to that, and then I try to put it all on the canvas. I would tell you that I’m usually between 30-60% successful. I’ve never had a piece of art turn out exactly how I pictured. Sometimes I like it anyway, and sometimes I am seconds away from painting over it. Or both.
Right now it’s both.
I’ve been staring at this blinking cursor for at least ten minutes with no idea how to comment on my latest pieces:
They are called, “Pay Attention to Me” and “Butterfly Kisses.” I guess that is all.
I’m in it again
The small space that fear built
With a broken door to death
And a thousand little failures
My chemical heart can’t take it
Betrothed to dread and loathing
And loving only you
Oh my! I sat down and painted a picture! I had fun and even worked my way through a big mistake without panicking or getting discouraged. Thank you medication adjustment!
So I tried to break myself out of the creative prison of my last failed painting, and ended up with something weird and ugly. In letting out my feelings onto canvas, I suppose that was a success. But it’s nothing pleasant that I would hang or ask anyone to buy. I paper mached the canvas in some misguided effort to create texture, and then started to paint a bird caught in a dreamcatcher before the painting suddenly decided it wanted to be an abstract. I tried to follow the instinct and ended up wrist deep in this:
It actually wouldn’t be so weird if not for the paper mache…?
No. It’d still be weird.
Afterward I made Rolo Chocolate Chip Blondies — the obvious choice for an evening of pouting. (After an impromptu run to the store in our pajamas — thank you, baby! <3)
It’s done, the pastel dust has settled…and I lost. I learned a lot. Like heavy black lines are NOT always a good idea. A light color will never cover a dark color. Bigger is not better.
Trust your instincts.
The truth is this painting died moments after I sketched it out and outlined it in sharpie. That’s when the itch to draw had been scratched and I remember thinking that the design was too weak to go on. But I spent too much money on the canvases and had no other inspiration calling, and so I plowed on, unhappily, until tonight when at sometime before 8pm I called it.
I’m frustrated still. I hit when I should have stayed and I busted, but can you blame me if I was only at a 16 with this painting?
Does that make sense to anyone else but me?
I’m not posting a picture because in a rage I shoved the pieces out of sight and I’m not ready to look at them again.
I keep meaning to blog, but I then I just…don’t. I suppose that’s because I have no new art to report, although I have been working on a piece. It’s been pretty draining. See, I decided that I’m going to start selling my art. So I got fancy, expensive canvases for this half-baked trio design aaaaaand… it’s become the bane of my existence. It’s such a large surface area that it’s taking FOREVER, and the depth of the canvas means I have to paint the sides too! (Which is not easy on top of trash bags on the floor with a new tattoo on my ankle that I’m still babying.) I’m going to have to charge $500 for this thing for my pain and suffering alone.
Here’s the WIP:
So what’s going on with me? I’m still convinced that my medication affects my writing. I don’t feel as creative in that capacity. Not even for poems. I guess it’s a small price to pay for sanity…but it’s still kind of sad to think about it.
So this is me, tuning out…