Just when you think you’ve heard and seen it all, a shadow catches your eye; your point of view or perhaps the time of day makes everything seem fresh and new. A ray of sunlight illuminates radiant color; and wham, you know you have to paint that scene or, at the very least, capture this feeling on camera.
Now you’re hooked, pursuing that elusive dream; hoping that this canvas will make a difference not only in your life, but in those who view it. Is the process of art addictive? Could you stop these urges even if you wanted to?
When your vision is complete, and you’ve rendered that last brush stroke are you satisfied? Is your thirst quenched or are you left wanting more? Does the smell of wet paint and turp cling to your nostrils like an aphrodisiac? Don’t fight the feeling. You’re an artist (you know who you are). Go with the flow.
When I meet with my artist friends there’s one thing on which we all agree. We walk on the weird side. We think with our eyes, and our gut instinctively guides our hand. We see life differently than most people and that sets us apart; sometimes even alienates us from family and others.
Not all of us are so driven. Some artists try to quell that constant beating of their senses in order to fit in and lead semi-normal lives working, raising children, involving themselves in a thousand mundane activities in their neighborhoods and communities. Those who do dedicate themselves to an artistic profession are usually teachers, commercial artists, illustrators who have found fulfillment in working for others.
The few who do break the mold may soar on their ability to create and tap into the dreams of others. They are leaving their mark in the world and managing to make a living at the same time. With effort and determination, this could be you.
|Yes, this is what black bears do in your neighborhood!|
I had one of those moments yesterday. My husband and I were talking and he was facing the window. “There’s a bear,” he said. I turned quickly. My eyes opened wide. A medium-sized black bear was sauntering past our screened-in porch. I went for the camera. By the time it was in hand, the bear was long gone.
“It isn’t likely he’ll come back,” I said, leaving the camera on a nearby coffee table. About an hour later, here was the bear lumbering past our porch going back to where he’d come from. By the time I grabbed the camera, he was gone. This is the first time in 12.5 years that we’ve seen a bear in our back yard. Now there was a story. Sadly, the painting that got away.
My next canvas I’m going back to what I love; painting the world’s people. I haven’t narrowed it down completely, but I’ve been looking for inspiration in the flavor of Mexico. My visit to San Antonio, Texas reminded me of how colorful the culture of the people is and how beautiful their faces.
I’ve been searching for poses and ideas online. A few samples are inserted. Continue to watch this blog for that first sketch and the work-in-progress to follow.