I decided against cramming another post before the holidays. I'm guessing you are busy with your own preparations, so who has time to read! Here are just a few images to whet your appetite for winter delights.
There are many ways of getting yourself into a rut, and
sometimes I even manage to do it all. Here are some dangerous things to look for:
Scheduling several important shows in one year sounds like a good thing, but it means having to paint consistently on a strict schedule throughout the year.
This leaves me alone in the studio for days, living inside my head
without a break - not a good thing at all. One looses perspective and may even jeopardize quality of work.
Complicated logistics can drain one's energy and enthusiasm. This could include use of substandard art materials, painting on canvases that are difficult to frame, expensive and
exhausting business trips, inefficient delivery of works to and from the gallery, emotionally draining receptions. Some of this can be avoided, but on or two are sure to get me every time.
Taking workshops to learn new things is great, except at the time when you are already in a rut. While you are hoping to refresh yourself
, diving into a completely different painting method may push you into believing that you are utterly
incompetent. Also, beware that people who teach things different from what you do, typically don't have much good to say about what you do. I guarantee that won't make you feel like a million bucks.
Starting a completely unrelated project which is
much easier and emotionally more rewarding than what you are just now experiencing with
your art is dangerously seductive. It will make you ask yourself – why am I not doing this instead
punishing myself to be an artist who can’t do anything right? Sounds logical, doesn't it? Well, it's not.
When you put yourself through all this, you ill
find yourself in that familiar, warm, oozy swamp of resentment at the very thought of even entering
your studio. That heavenly place surely
does not deserve someone so substandard and confused as me!
So how to turn all this around?
The only way I can feel
worthy of entering the inner sanctum again is if I ask myself what are the good
things I know for certain that I can do in there? Funnily, there is always something on the GOOD LIST!
Organizing! Why not clean the
studio and sort out my electronic art files?
Compositions! I can start a new notebook and pencil in compositions, that's always a great fun.
Colors! I love making small color studies and playing with my color wheel.
Art materials! There are always mediums and tools that I never use. I wonder what they can do?
And here is is the BLACK LIST of things I mustn't do until I stop feeling about making art, like a seasick sailor in the middle of a prefect storm:
No watching of on line art classes and trying to
paint using new techniques from art books. Would the seasick sailor climb on top of the
mast? I don’t think so.
No trying to make a painting using new
techniques. The new knowledge will have to find a subtle indirect way to seep
into my work. Let it ferment.
No committing to anything new and unrelated to my art. A one night stand or a lighthearted affair is fine,
but keep it at that. There is nothing else I am meant to be in this one short
life, as long as my hand can hold the brush.
No avoiding the studio, because that's exactly what spiders expect me to do (I hate spiders)
And absolutely no researching and approaching new galleries - this one is fatal! New business partners deserve the best you can offer, and that certainly won't happen when you are in a rut.