Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Blank canvas and therapy.

I stood in front of a blank canvas the other day. Staring at the perfect white rectangle I thought long and hard about the process of how I paint, before I began. I thought about what holds me back from painting more often, and what it is I wanted to achieve. What kind of painting did I want to do, and how did I want it to look. The more I thought about it the more complex it became in my head. I felt myself withdraw from the passion of wanting to create something and feelings of lacking in someway came forward, and I no longer believed that I could do this. Or anything for that matter.

I decided to completely let go of my expectations and just paint what ever. If it was a fuck up, then so be it. I decided to not try to achieve a style or outcome or some kind of masterpiece, but just paint and feel along the way about what stroke of the brush would come next. There were three things I knew I wanted, so I stuck with them. I wanted to paint a rocky mountain, I wanted to use only black and white paint and I wanted to retain some of that crisp white canvas. Why I wanted those three things I don't know, it seemed it was just a desire from with in.

I have belatedly realised that an artistic need or feeling is not a thing to be over analysed. For far too long I have been caught up with wanting to do something wonderful and significant. I have let fear and disappointment control me. It's actually really hard to admit that by the way. Showing a weakness is difficult I guess. But in doing so I give myself permission to bloody well stuff up, to naively experiment and not care about the critique of others. I believe ultimately when you reach your uninhibited creative side, that the rest just follows.

Probably, there is a different creative process that individuals need to carry out, in order to tap into the souls inspirational channels. Tuning into the uniqueness of yourself instead of modifying your individual stream to others.

I am making amends with myself and attempting not to belittle my lack of formal qualifications in the fine arts......or in anything really. Perhaps my curious insight and life knowledge is what my focus should be. I have never been happy with polished, shiny or fine tuned things. I completely adore rawness and realness.

I always have and will continue to absorb the daily flow of life and people around me. I am always sensing the weird and phenomenal connections with the basics, defining the spiritual importance of survival and intuition. After months of therapy I have finally began to transform my minds chaos into something tangible that I can manage. I suppose it's been a long time coming. But I secretly rejoice in the power of my mind.

The piece of artwork I wanted to paint was a gift for my husband. His continuous and whole hearted belief in me as a some kind of writer and sporadic artist is unwavering. I am deeply thankful for this.

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