Total Art Soul - for artists

Today I have a confession to make. I am a sold-out, over-the-top nutcase, and I blame it all on art.

I should have known better than to edit images after 6 p.m. Like caffeine, the thrill of seeing a project come together tends to rev my engine and sends jolts of creativity roaring through my brain folds. I love the whole process a little too much, perhaps, and once that engine's rolling along, there's no turning off the brain switch.

So I fell into a deep sleep around 11:30, and dove immediately into the zaniest dream about beautiful textured backgrounds and wind-tossed fields of grass. For the next four hours, billowy sheets of pastel swirls were blowing and twirling just beyond my reach. After a long chase on a winding path through the forest, I wrestled a pile of them into submission, and with great delight, dropped them into my Spring Hues file, which was filed away in an oversized Mac that I was towing behind me on the trail.

When my eyelids flew open at 3:30 this morning, I knew the night was technically over for me, and a couple of earnest pillow-flips later (don't pretend that you never flip your pillow so the cool side's up), I officially gave up the fight.

Tuesday had arrived, and the coffeepot was calling my name. I'll feel the lack of sleep this afternoon, no doubt, but sometimes you just gotta roll with it. American Rennaissance sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens got it right: "What garlic is to salad, insanity is to art."

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.

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So, you have caught me doing my very first blog.  It's rather intimidating.  First, and foremost, I have never considered myself a writer in any sense of the word; second, why waste the time mulling my thoughts on paper when I'd rather be in the studio painting?

I promise nothing in this.  If you find yourself still reading this, should I apologize in advance?

Last night, I got into a brief Twitter discussion with another artist and it lead to some rather deep introspection of myself as an artist and what it means to be an artist.  I am not going to go into really deep psychoanalysis about my thoughts at this time... mainly because it will just be a wonderful excuse to quit doing this, and secondly, I think I just need to take baby steps.

So, where did this discussion lead? Well, it started with my ponderings on why pears are such a prevalent subject matter in art?  I mean really, why?  Of course, in all my years of painting, I've never painted a pear.  The woman I was chatting with, did one, and now is obsessed with pears.  Her avatar is one of her painted pears.  We never did discuss the deep conscious/subconscious reasons for this obsession, but it did pique my interest enough to experiment myself.

I have absolutely no question in myself that I am quite capable of painting a lovely pear.  I do question what I will get out of it.  I will report, as necessary, as soon as I start.

Another topic that was broached was the Bravo show - Work of Art, the  Next Great Artist.

Maybe I am just a complete ignoramus as an artist, but I was completely fascinated with the program... as long as you look past the forced melodrama and narcissism.  I am the first to accuse myself of not painting/creating outside of the box.  I've had enough negative things happen in my life... I just don't really feel like doing a postmortem on it.  I want to paint beauty, so I paint beauty.  Where has that gotten me?  Nowhere, really.

On the show, there were subject matters that have NEVER crossed my mind to explore.  Geez, I guess I should have paid a little more attention in my studies back in college... but I was always daydreaming.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I think I really really need to start pushing my own boundries and really truly start exploring art.  Wow, even as I type that, I start having a panicky feeling creep in around the edges.  Hmmmm, now I really need to push myself.

Soooooo... I'm off.

To be continued.... :-)

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