In this painting, as in the previous one, I started with a more structured approach to the composition. Once again, I based the composition on curves and spirals. The images below shows the evolution of the painting from sketch to the current, near complete stage.
I think the result has merit in its design, but I felt slightly uncomfortable as the painting developed – this was a sort of landscape I was not intimately familiar with – unlike the marshland and savanna-like landscapes that normally feature in my work.
Also, interestingly I felt a bit constrained by the initial design – it was as if I felt I had to fit the painting into a certain mold. It was a different experience from the normal, intuitive approach in which I just start with a few marks on the panel and then react to the image as it evolves – with nothing else to guide/constrain me.
I see my reaction and taste for painting change from month to month. Today I reviewed my Creativity Inspirations page again and found my Rule #3: “Accept that Your Taste and Style will Change” (!), in which I wrote:
“I have noticed how my taste for art has changed over years, sometimes starting off on one style, moving away and then coming back again. Sometimes this made me think I was wishy-washy, not sure enough of myself, not original enough. Robert Henri has some advice on this:”
IT IS NOT EASY to know what you like. Most people fool themselves their entire lives through about this. Self-acquaintance is a rare condition.
I am quite happy today despite a full workload and little time to paint. I leave you with another view about work, and about certainty and uncertainty of what is real and imagined, what is still and what is moving:
Open and Closed Space With his work, as with a glove, a man feels the universe. At noon he rests a while, and lays the gloves aside on a shelf. There they suddenly start growing, grow huge and make the whole house dark from inside. The darkened house is out in the April winds. “Amnesty”, the grass whispers, “amnesty". A boy runs along with an invisible string that goes right up into the sky. There his wild dream of the future flies like a kite, bigger than his town. Further to the north, you see from a hill the blue matting of fir trees on which the shadows of the clouds do not move. No, they are moving. Tomas Transtromer, translated by Robert Bly
Thanks to all who have commented on my posts, and encouraged me with likes and especially to all followers of my blog. May your wild dream of the future fly like a kite!