I want to be fabulous by now. I want all of my hurdles to be squashed and see myself dancing into a Picasso’esk kind of moment. I want to recognize the appropriate use of bold color in my own work. I want to attack every canvas. I want to capture the spirit of vibrant people in a short amount of time. I want my vigorous spirit to be recognized and captured, all in the same moment. I want an intense, extreme, pouring out of my soul, all over the palette, and I want to watch it jump onto the canvas. I want it so badly, and my inability to get it is crushing.
I have not done any figurative work for two days. I did exercises in value and bold color instead. I did what I was told, and I was pleased to be relieved of the choices. All worth doing, but nothing I plan to show off.
Tomorrow will be a still life. I hear dead fish are on the menu – perhaps I will be able to capture them by using my killed color… Then onto the landscape where any returned emotion comes from a completely pure place, with no exceptions, no judgment. It just is. Therefore your pleasure, or for your pain. The choice is yours.
I’ll relish the still life and the landscape. But I will ache for something different. I need to paint the (a) figure, a soul, someone that doesn’t care about the outcome; someone that will sit for the sake of sitting. Someone who will sit for me for 4-5 30-minute poses and let me move them around. Let me throw them all over the canvas – let me paint them blue if I want to. Let me paint them black. Right now, they feel black – because I feel black.
It’s late, and skype – as wonderful as it is – just doesn’t cut the cake. I would like to inspire you every day. I would like to be inspired every day. I would like to feel RED tomorrow – and get the black off my palette altogether.