One of the interesting dynamics of painting is learning to let go. In painting there are a number of ways and times I find myself having to let go. Actually it has become somewhat of a life skill.
Letting go of a good idea. I have something like an art journal of ideas, sketches and notes. There are times when I find a good idea, I play with it, explore and imagine the painting it can become. There are moments when something isn’t quite right. It might be something about the process of trying to create it, or stepping back and trying to make something fit that isn’t fitting in the composition. I took a close up picture of a wasp sunning on my white paper with a beautiful shadow beneath it. It has been an inspiration for an abstract piece I wanted to do for some time. The more and more I have studied it, it is an idea that was so cool yet wasn’t going to work. It is like dating a super cool person and then realizing, as cool as they are, they won’t fit into your life. I still love the picture and idea but I have to let that inspiration go.
Letting go of my ego. Being an artist there is an ego’s delight when others find my work pleasing. Yet when I am doing a painting everything is in play except my ego. Heart, mind and soul? Yes. Ego? No. There are times when a painting fails and the ego wants to wallow in disgust or disappointment. Failure is part of the process. The more you risk, the more you learn, the more likely you are to fail, but that is the only place for growth. When focusing on painting the concentration regarding color, texture and composition absorbs most of the oxygen in the room. Ego can enjoy the accomplishment of painting, but never has been a part of creating it.
Letting go of my control. I have mentioned before that I paint with intent. There is a focus of taking paint and laying it down in such a way to achieve the look I want to achieve. There are times I have a vision in my head that is not as visually clear as I want, but I know the emotional content of that vision. Translating emotional content into a painting is not as easy as it seems. I am doing a figurative series of windows as my current artist niche. The first painting turned out great. The one I am working on now is the same window, but at a different angle and lighting. The base colors have gone down smoothly and looking great. Now I need to create a rubbled texture of the walls in balance of the base colors. I don’t have the answer of how to do it. What I do know is that I need to let control of what I know and let myself explore intuitively what colors and applications I will try next. Intuition is like a cat doesn’t want to be pet. I go to the painting and stare at it. Pull out colors, different tools and alongside painting and contemplate. If nothing comes then I walk away to let it rest. Eventually the next step will reveal itself.
Letting go of stalled painting. I have talked about this before but there are times I get to a point in a painting my intuition tells me the painting is …. Well I have painted myself into a corner. My intuition tells me that there are no other moves. I have ventured so far off the intended path of my vision that there is no returning. All that is left is to put it in the portfolio of other such paintings. I save it hoping that perhaps someday I will have a different vision from which I can use it. For now it is time to let it go and move on.
The last way I find myself letting go is when I finish a painting. If it is a good painting, I will take about 10 or 15 minutes and just bask in a job well done. I will crack a cold one and sit there and study the composition, the colors and textures and how they all came together. I reflect on the journey the painting has taken me. It is a strange wonderful moment of solitude and intimacy. In my earliest paintings there was a desire to “keep” my best paintings. I remember as my portfolio was growing so did the number of paintings I wanted to keep. I started sorting the “keepers’ with the ones I was willing to let go. I remember sitting back and looking at the keepers and asking myself why? Though my best work gave me immense satisfaction, it dawned on me that sharing them, all of them, had more meaning. The other day I had the unusual experience of meeting a friend of a gallery owner in the gallery I am in. The woman liked my work and she wanted to see my portfolio. When I shared a smaller painting I did a year ago and qualified as one of my favorites, she immediately fell in love with it. I remember where I painted it and the journey it took me. It was a wonderful sensation of letting it go and to have someone enjoy it as much as I do.
Metsa Studio 