First I flip through old photos. It fills me with emotions. I choose one to use it in my painting. It is the one that at this particular moment I am most emotionally attuned to. I try to examine its visual qualities but get confused between the primary and the secondary features. I try to figure out what is the main theme and quickly get dizzy. I take a breath and descend into the Cave. There, with the dummy of Like Totally sitting in the corner, I let go of any thoughts. I paint blindly. Camera becomes handy because it allows me to look at the process later, and hopefully analyze my painting, and hopefully understand what is the main theme and primary and secondary features to do a bit better next time. It takes a lot of effort to overcome the strength of the 'muse's' muscle to do it 'my way.' I can't stop thinking that the 'muse' of the Cave is my old fashioned father, an amateur artist himself, and 'my way' is the influence of my husband, a professional artist. This is in a way a disturbing thought, the one my analyst wouldn't approve of.
(what the f*ck, right? who cares, right?)
P.S. As I am analyzing the process now, I see how I can strengthen the effect. But yesterday, when I was looking at the same sequence right after I washed my brushes, I felt differently. See, it can be taken in any direction. Why should it be taken anywhere, anyway?
Because when one will in me fights another will in me, it feels like an effort.
No comments:
Post a Comment