The last several months I haven’t had the desire to paint on a detailed scale.
(I LOVE detail!! I love every aspect of it! The architect of a building. How the stone or wood, that holds it’s heart together, feels. The reflections of the types of glass that was used during the construction. In general, I understand, that this is history placed in front of me and that there is beauty that I should scribed.)
I’ve been dabbling in varies mediums, pens, pencils etc., but to no avail. It just wouldn’t come to me. Of course, maybe I was trying to hard, maybe I was just burned out. I felt burned out*. (*Warning: the whining is about to proceed) Not from my art, but from the world outside my studio. I moved further out for varies reason, but the primary was to increase my productivity. It was going pretty well. Then it took a left at Albuquerque. I kept pushing the pen in the sketch book, but nothing. I was getting some ideas roaming around my brain, but none seemed reasonable. I rearranged my studio (it started with a sick Cichlid, who had to be pulled from the main tank. Then, I thought, because he was so social, maybe, just maybe, I had room in my studio for him. So, I started moving things around, tossing things out. Moved an empty tank in, called my partner and had it setup, ready to go. Yep, sure enough, moved him in and he died within two weeks. (Cuss, Cuss, Swear, Swear!) So, I took some fry out of the main tank and now they’re in the studio. The little brats. Assuring that they were settled in, I took the paintings stacked against the wall and hung them up. Not much for symmetry, but they’re up and that’s that.
Moving forward, I started taking those “reasonable” ideas and putting them on canvas. It felt like I was brushing away the cob webs in the corners of my brain. I don’t know where any of these concepts are going but, I’ll follow.