I spent all weekend painting. I used to paint really fast, finishing each painting very quickly. I wanted to be done fast, in a big sweeping "woooooosh."
About two years ago I went to this awesome women's process painting workshop. It was Friday night, all Saturday and Sunday. We were forced to work on the same painting all weekend. We couldn't "start over." We had to refrain from saying both positive and negative things about our art and other's art--it wasn't about being "good" or "bad"--it was about painting and about our own process.
I learned a ton at that workshop--how I used to paint really fast because I thought I should "get it done" fast, and that I shouldn't spend time on something so "pointless or useless." What I found out that weekend was the truth: that I actually wanted and needed more time to paint. Lots and lots of time. The ongoing question is now...can I give myself lots of time and fight the inner critic?
Anyway, painting this weekend reminded me of that workshop. I loved painting all weekend, but I hated this actual painting most of the time.
painting part 1:
But I had to sit with that. Again, the voices of "it's ugly...it's weird...what the F" etc, etc. But I sat through it.
Painted through it.
I still don't feel totally satisfied with it:
But that's not the point. It feels "done." Even though posting this process is actually hard, because I look back and like other stages better. But I'm letting it go.
This is what I love about art and about process art: I learn so much about myself--how to work through my own judgments, or at least let them just be there without dictating me. Because if my judgments had dictated me, I would have painted really fast, like for one hour, and then would have put it away the whole weekend and done something else that would have not been nearly as fun and meaningful.
Well, that felt good. :).
I'm going to go outside now and enjoy this sunny day.