That's how I roll

As I was recently contemplating a failed pastel of New York (aka a "wiper"), I had a bit of an epiphany about how I work.  I'm really not much of a planner.  I know this doesn't seem too revelatory to those who know me well, but bear with me.

After trips to New York City and out west, I was determined to do a series of paintings based on photos I had taken.  I gave it a lot of thought, went through photos, cropped them and played with images.  In other words, I spent a lot of time planning them out.  But looking back at all my paintings, these aren't the best ones.  The best ones are those that I had no idea I was going to paint until I stepped foot in my studio.  A few involved some minor planning - I did take the time to crop the photo of the brownstone, but it was only a few minutes before I started on the canvas.  And although I had considered the nautilus, it was an impulse the day I finally decided to paint it.

So, lesson learned.  I will have more paintings of the southwest and New York - when I feel like it, not when I think I have to.  Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to go paint...something.

Wipeout

It's been a rather frustrating and frantically busy week.  Between a karate tournament, a soccer game and gearing up for the summer shows, I haven't had much time for painting.  And when I was able to carve out a bit of time, it really didn't work out so well.  "Wipers", or sometimes oil painters call them "scrapers", are a part of the process.  These are paintings that just don't come together and get wiped or scraped off.   It happened to me twice this week.

The first was a large pastel that has been sitting for awhile as I hoped to be able to salvage it.  But it never really felt right and I finally admitted it and wiped it clean.  The second was a smaller pastel that wasn't right from the beginning.  It didn't take much convincing to wipe that one off.

I'm finding that the more painting I do, the more willing I've become to admit defeat.  It's a hard thing to get past "I can fix this" but I'm getting more comfortable with the idea that it's okay to fail.   Looking back over the past year's pieces, I can see that I'm making progress, slowing getting better.  A step or two backwards is frustrating but at the same time it can be liberating as I know a step or two forward is just behind that paint rag.