Clint, have you read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert? There is a great story about the poet Ruth Stone who would hear her inspiration from afar, rolling over the landscape like thunder in her direction. She had to be ready when it arrived, quickly grabbing anything to scribble the ideas. If she wasn't, it would pass by her. Wonderful read.
When I am flatly shuffling across a painting or writing, doing the work without a lot of anything risked or loved and all I can feel is the end of the deepest sigh my boredom can muster , there it is , a musey rush falling in love with my dry soul.
Coaxing my emotions, stinging my intellect, it pulls me,tickled, to its fat , pirated treasure full of the charms of a child, the winds of dead rock stars , the facets of prom queens and linemen, and , reality.
It is funny how that works. With painting, I think of it as fairies that sneak in while I am out of the studio. In reality I think time separates us from the struggle of arrangement and when we come back, it is an object, not a group of parts. We then start afresh at a different level, almost as though we are just assisting in taking the project further.
I call this process, "letting it bake".... sometimes leading to starting over but that's just one of numerous layers needed to develop my perceived emotional painting out come.
Clint, have you read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert? There is a great story about the poet Ruth Stone who would hear her inspiration from afar, rolling over the landscape like thunder in her direction. She had to be ready when it arrived, quickly grabbing anything to scribble the ideas. If she wasn't, it would pass by her. Wonderful read.
Thanks again and again Clintavo.
When I am flatly shuffling across a painting or writing, doing the work without a lot of anything risked or loved and all I can feel is the end of the deepest sigh my boredom can muster , there it is , a musey rush falling in love with my dry soul.
Coaxing my emotions, stinging my intellect, it pulls me,tickled, to its fat , pirated treasure full of the charms of a child, the winds of dead rock stars , the facets of prom queens and linemen, and , reality.
What a terrific practice to try ... thanks for the inspiration!
It is funny how that works. With painting, I think of it as fairies that sneak in while I am out of the studio. In reality I think time separates us from the struggle of arrangement and when we come back, it is an object, not a group of parts. We then start afresh at a different level, almost as though we are just assisting in taking the project further.
I call this process, "letting it bake".... sometimes leading to starting over but that's just one of numerous layers needed to develop my perceived emotional painting out come.