Friday, April 4 2025

It's weird, the sheer motivation it takes to pick up a paintbrush or wad of clay.  Then some mysterious spark hits and we jump the gap to the canvas or the clay.  These moments I'm fully invested.  I'm thinking, "Yes, I LOVE color, dollops of paint and the feel of sliding my brush through it." or "Yes!  The feel of clay is connective and deep and cool and calming." 

Right at these 'fully invested' moments, I want to practice connecting this joy to the moments of hesitation.  Picture crossing a bridge and remembering that even though the fog obscures the land on other side, I love what awaits me there.  It is a place I choose to go again and again.  

This is all on my mind because as I mentioned in the previous blog, I committed to "just saying yes", and my deadline is now looming.   Now I am simultaneously fighting off the demons of self doubt and the self defeating urge not to cross the bridge.  SO, whats my connective  mantra?  Cross the bridge!                                                                           No, no good for demand avoidance.....Maybe my mantra is visual.  Makes sense... A mental picture of being in my creative space that I can clearly see from across the bridge.                                                             Lift the fog!  Picture the space...                                                                   There is no fog. Picture the space...

Clearly picture the space

Wed, 3/12/2011

I used to think about "blank canvas fear" all the time

And have it, of course!  There are plenty of ways to work on this such as sketching before hand, coating your canvas in a burnt sienna wash, doing an underpainting and so forth. 

Now, though, I love to start paintings!  I go for thin layers of bold colors, loosely working on an idea of a composition.  It feels GREAT to have started, so I wash up, let it sit over night...and thats where the fear creeps in... 

At this stage, and every layer after,  the painting looks ok - there are some fun parts to it, BUT... will I ruin it?  if I ruin it, will I be able to recreate it???  I have a few paintings that have sat around for years unfinished but, unworked but, nagging at me.  I tell myself that this fear will fade and the more I paint, the less I'll hesitate.

But right now, this is where I am.  And it's also why, when someone asks me to donate or exhibit a painting, I close my eyes and leap.  I could say it's the deadline pushing me forward, but really?  It's my fear of not coming through that is stronger than the fear of the canvas.