One of many goals I have as an artist is to never cease improving. Whenever I finish a piece I stand back and stare at what I had done, silently rewarding myself (and it, because I feel my work is a body separate from my own) but ultimately I am always judging it, grading its success and wondering how I could improve on the marks I had made in preparation for my next attempt at creation. I feel like there will never be a point where I will stand back, no matter how skilled I grow, and think that there is in no way I can improve or that I shouldn’t continue improving no matter how satisfied I am in my own ability.
Here is a poem I just made up…
In this ruined industry
I have known only terror
That is illuminated by fury
For the unaccountability of error
At hands apart from mine
At hands longing for direction
But moving without a sign
And not stopping for introspection
No halt in the momentum
Careless and ever onward
Unaware that this is bedlam
Feeling more and more empowered
By this lapse outside confinement
And you stray, you lose your sight
Failing to notice ahead the predicament
You will understand that something is not right
Just in time to crash
Ultimately you failed to see
In the road a gash
Only then you will know that you were free
Only within the legroom of your cage
And while in hand rests the key
Active in your continuation to disparage
The notion that there is another way to be
It corresponds with work currently in progress.
Well, I don’t think there was any crying. I hope there wasn’t. At any rate, the show was last night and it was a great turn out. I am grateful to everyone who braved the cold and, for some, the lengthy drive to the gallery. Apart from the elation I experienced seeing my work on display in public (it seemed to take on a completely different personality, or least spoke for itself volumes much louder than it did in my cramped apartment) I really enjoyed all of the positive feedback everyone offered anent my work. Just as enjoyable was the opportunity to discuss my methods and the thought processes behind the creation of the work – not that I was willing to impart too much information. But I delighted most in hearing peoples theories regarding the meaning on everything they saw. Thanks again to everyone who attended and to those that wanted to but couldn’t.
6 days till the show. Anxiety attacks, but I’m really excited about it.
My attraction to watercolour is hard to convey. It’s transparent nature has the potential to mystify. When I see a well-done watercolour painting it makes me feel as though I am looking into a distant memory that has just barely escaped obscurity or a ghost that refuses to cut loose its fetters. When I get out my watercolours I do so with the intention of encapsulating or chronicling, in some abstract way, a memory that I feel is at risk of either being forgotten or under-appreciated – but that it was at risk at all of being missed is something I also want to communicate. I’d like to think that anything rendered well in watercolour is an image that will linger with a viewer, haunt them like a restless but congenial ghost.
If we are to believe that we were created in God’s image and that we are the greatest of his creations, then it stands to reason that the act of creating is the highest form of tribute to the Creator. Furthermore, with humanity as the pinnacle of His work, it is reasonable to assume that artwork that represents the human figure stands above the rest.