November 2022. Moon Flowers in Love (With Witnesses)
I was asked several months ago if I might attempt a new kind of painting, at least, new for me. Plein Air Painting during a wedding.
So this afternoon I was in my suit and tie, painting while the bride came down the aisle, and vows were exchanged. All kinds of normal fears arose in me. I was being watched, on purpose. What if all my fears from the past arose during that period? A terribly wrong brushstroke, which could not be fixed? Paint spilling on my suit, or worse yet, my set up or items falling during those somber moments?
I found I had to tune out almost everything and stand as if I was in an empty room. A year ago a friend congratulated me for making the Hoosier Salon, 97th annual juried Show at the Indiana State Museum. The Good news is "Nobody can take away what you earned." The bad news is, " You will always judge your new work at those levels," making it easier for me to be more harsh with myself. I never liked the term, "Arrived," allowing us to be lazy, taking shortcuts once we met a huge goal. But it also made me more picky showing only those things which I felt good about, hiding the bad, or as my friends do, literally burning the bad so they're no longer in circulation.
A counselor, whom I loved a couple of years ago asked, What kind of art do you like? Answer, Impressionism. "Why?" "Because I liked the loose, odd brushwork." "What kind of music?" My answer, "Live," 'Why?" Because I liked the bum notes occasionally, even the loose rough sound. I mentioned once I loved tweed jackets. "Why?" Because I liked the random odd colored threads here and there. She sad to me, "Ah, you like imperfection!" And she told me, Those little mistakes are what you find beautiful!" "Why don't you let yourself fail too, maybe in those mistakes someone will find you beautiful, (and real) too!" Revelation!
The experiment of painting at a wedding I felt, went well, and yes I had fun. It may take years to remove the negative tapes which we all have rolling around in our heads.
I was asked several months ago if I might attempt a new kind of painting, at least, new for me. Plein Air Painting during a wedding.
So this afternoon I was in my suit and tie, painting while the bride came down the aisle, and vows were exchanged. All kinds of normal fears arose in me. I was being watched, on purpose. What if all my fears from the past arose during that period? A terribly wrong brushstroke, which could not be fixed? Paint spilling on my suit, or worse yet, my set up or items falling during those somber moments?
I found I had to tune out almost everything and stand as if I was in an empty room. A year ago a friend congratulated me for making the Hoosier Salon, 97th annual juried Show at the Indiana State Museum. The Good news is "Nobody can take away what you earned." The bad news is, " You will always judge your new work at those levels," making it easier for me to be more harsh with myself. I never liked the term, "Arrived," allowing us to be lazy, taking shortcuts once we met a huge goal. But it also made me more picky showing only those things which I felt good about, hiding the bad, or as my friends do, literally burning the bad so they're no longer in circulation.
A counselor, whom I loved a couple of years ago asked, What kind of art do you like? Answer, Impressionism. "Why?" "Because I liked the loose, odd brushwork." "What kind of music?" My answer, "Live," 'Why?" Because I liked the bum notes occasionally, even the loose rough sound. I mentioned once I loved tweed jackets. "Why?" Because I liked the random odd colored threads here and there. She sad to me, "Ah, you like imperfection!" And she told me, Those little mistakes are what you find beautiful!" "Why don't you let yourself fail too, maybe in those mistakes someone will find you beautiful, (and real) too!" Revelation!
The experiment of painting at a wedding I felt, went well, and yes I had fun. It may take years to remove the negative tapes which we all have rolling around in our heads.