Tools of the Trade

This is the painting I referred to in my last post. It's almost finished so I took a picture to get a feel for what else needs to be done. The background needs to be worked on and the raised trim under the crayon window is just a black band at this point. When the box was printed they covered the whole surface in red first and it peaks through the black in places that have been worn. Once that's in, the box will be more interesting. Thank goodness for NPR. I like to listen while I paint. It really keeps my butt in the chair longer.

The Neurobiology of Excellence

Right before I came down with that virus last week I had picked up a couple of books at the Goodwill. One of them was Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman. I was particularly interested in the section, Flow: The Neurobiology of Excellence. For me, flow often feels like a state of grace in which I've gotten out of my own way. I'm totally focused on what I'm doing but in a relaxed joyful way. It's been a while since I experienced it while painting and I really need the occasional dose of it to keep me going. Better still, I want to develop a set of work habits that can help me access it on a regular basis. A way to enter flow is to "intentionally focus a sharp attention on the task at hand." It's a bit like meditation, once the intruding thoughts have quieted it becomes self reinforcing. Ideally, the work should be at a level of difficulty just a bit more challenging than one is used to.
So for the time being I've stopped listening to NPR talk shows while I work. I'm trying to get my mind quiet before I paint. It may be that some soft music may help. Nothing I'm doing is really new but trying to deliberately, systematically train myself is new to me. I'll let you know how it goes.
This image is the painting I'm working on, another close up of a glass jar against a blue background. Getting some of the highlights in is making it more fun to work on.

The Process of Painting

This is the painting I'm working on now. It's really helpful to me seeing it reduced in a photograph. I'm past the worst point, that part when the painting looks pretty awful and I just have to take it on faith that by the time I'm done it will work out. I don't know rather it's just the way I paint with acrylics but it seems to take a certain number of layers to get the effect I want. This reminds me of a talented friend of ours who went through a phase of giving up on his paintings too soon, to the point that he restarted one painting so many times that he finally gave up on it. This was a terrible shame because each one had some really good elements. As in so many other pursuits, it's probable that he would have learned more from sticking to it through the tough spots. Even if the painting still didn't work out, it would be worth it. I've heard it said that you have to love your painting enough to make some bad ones to get to the good ones. The universe won't strike you dead for making a crappy painting.