No matter what I do I still always consider myself a painter first, a painter before anything else. Even as I spend most of my time on photos I still love to dabble in my paints just mixing one color or shade with another than dabbing some on an old canvas to see if I like it or if it is worth saving. Just a couple days ago I had lunch with my fav art guy who is going to get me some samples of a new Atelier acrylic that supposedly is easier to blend and comes in 75 colors and shades. I'm so excited because honestly I like to play with paint as much now as I did when I was a little girl with watercolors.
After my last post it came up that I can't seem to paint and do any serious photo work at the same time. My brain just doesn’t seem to function that way at all. To me photography is a much more externally generated art while painting is created internally. What I mean by that is that when I take a photo I am showing you what I see with my eyes. It may be distorted, modified, or transformed in some way but it is still what I actually saw and my brain has little to do with it. When I paint I am showing you what my brain sees which is a totally different and sometimes scary thing. I paint in abstract because I sometimes see the world in abstract which is something I won’t even try to explain now. What is strange is that my eyes see a simple world of b&w while my brain sees a colorful world yet totally distorted. Like I said hard to explain so I'll leave it to the shrinks.
As I said before my painting can involve days of isolation and a lot of tequila, nicotine, and caffeine with little if any food. I get in a zone where I'm totally into the painting and nothing else. It's what I do. For the first time in awhile I seem to be in the mood to paint. Not play with my paints but seriously paint something. It's a feeling I haven't had in almost two years now but it feels different in that I don't feel the need to run off to the liquor store to stock up on tequila and cigarettes. Not that I won’t be heading there but in ways I feel like a muse now lurks in the back of my brain and that inspiration replaces the need for some things. I was never one to feel inspired because inspiration seems such a random thing which always points you in the direction you were already heading anyway. It's also a fickle beast that comes and goes at its own time and place, usually when you least expect it. In the end it's best just to go with the wave and not try to force it because it simply goes where it will.
Things seem to change even as they remain the same. See what comes of it.
Keep in mind that I started this before my last post or what I'll call my 'insanity' post. So if it seems a little confusing no worries, my brain is confusing. Actually I have been writing this over so many days now I have no idea what it means.
The Good Natured - Skeleton