I couldn't do it. I just couldn't come up with a final composition for my show. I loved the idea of the symmetry of having three different paintings for each of three images. I'm sure no one will care that the third image only has two painted interpretations, but for me it has felt like a failure that I couldn't come up with anything interesting enough to paint. I came up with a lot of good compositions, but nothing that really said anything different than what I've already said. It felt redundant, just another painting. It felt like failure.
But after consulting with my gallerist (the unflappable Powell MacDougall), I was reassured that I had plenty of work for the show and to simply complete and perfect the works that were already in progress. I began to think of all the things I could do without the burden of that one final painting to paint -- and suddenly I felt liberated. I felt like a creative person again. I realized how much that one painting was just feeling like product and not like art. I didn't have the time to thoughtfully resolve a new compositional structure, so I was just trying to make a nice, reasonable painting to round out the show. Ugh. Terrible, soul-destroying motivation.
The first day after this decision, waiting for wet paintings to dry, I started playing with some old ideas that I haven't had time to revisit and explore. In just a few hours, I felt on the verge of a new breakthrough. Instead of feeling the weight of having to execute an endless number of new paintings to meet painfully stressful deadlines, I felt excited, inspired, awake and rejuvenated. I was an artist again, not just a painting machine. And I might even have time to work this new idea into the show. Now THAT''s exciting.
I know there is always going to be pressure to create work to fill shows on tight deadlines (at least I hope there will always be that pressure!), but now I realize how important it is for me to make sure I find a way to leave myself some breathing room -- some time to play, to ponder, to experiment.
I'm really proud of the works that will be on display at my show. That final, failed, unpainted painting will not be missed.
But after consulting with my gallerist (the unflappable Powell MacDougall), I was reassured that I had plenty of work for the show and to simply complete and perfect the works that were already in progress. I began to think of all the things I could do without the burden of that one final painting to paint -- and suddenly I felt liberated. I felt like a creative person again. I realized how much that one painting was just feeling like product and not like art. I didn't have the time to thoughtfully resolve a new compositional structure, so I was just trying to make a nice, reasonable painting to round out the show. Ugh. Terrible, soul-destroying motivation.
The first day after this decision, waiting for wet paintings to dry, I started playing with some old ideas that I haven't had time to revisit and explore. In just a few hours, I felt on the verge of a new breakthrough. Instead of feeling the weight of having to execute an endless number of new paintings to meet painfully stressful deadlines, I felt excited, inspired, awake and rejuvenated. I was an artist again, not just a painting machine. And I might even have time to work this new idea into the show. Now THAT''s exciting.
I know there is always going to be pressure to create work to fill shows on tight deadlines (at least I hope there will always be that pressure!), but now I realize how important it is for me to make sure I find a way to leave myself some breathing room -- some time to play, to ponder, to experiment.
I'm really proud of the works that will be on display at my show. That final, failed, unpainted painting will not be missed.