This morning I finished my first painting in my new collection of female archetypes, The Warrior. From start to finish, this painting changed drastically. Usually when I’m working on something it’s really difficult to know when to stop; it seems almost impossible to know when to call an artwork finished. For the first time, perhaps ever, I was certain.
While I didn’t quite know what was going to emerge from the canvas when I started, she is more than I could have hoped for. She is fierce and willful, beautifully bloodied after a victorious battle, and a force to be reckoned with.
I know I have felt her inside of me on rare occasions when I’ve been significantly wronged in some way. In real life, especially as rational adults, we learn to deal with these sorts of things in a healthy way, such as having a discussion, hitting a punching bag or running it off.
But wouldn’t it be nice if instead, for those who really deserve it, we could just beat the crap out of them and walk away? I know you are all thinking of someone in your head right now!
I was recently asked by someone why I started my collection with her, The Warrior. After giving it much thought, I believe that she is the part of us that is so often reluctant to come out. We can be afraid to be strong even when we know we need to be. And so I wanted to put her in the forefront of my work, as a reminder to all women that we have this unforgiving strength in us, and it is okay to use it from time to time.
I was very fortunate to spend this weekend surrounded by art. I went to a very cool gallery of local artists on Saturday and I worked on my own artwork on Sunday; an artist’s perfect weekend! Today I spent a couple hours on The Warrior painting, which is still not quite finished by the way. After about an hour in, I realized that I spent the entire time working solely on her right hand! It got me to thinking about the length of time artists spend working on the smallest of details to get them just right.
Why is it that at times I finish a painting in a single day, while other paintings take me over a month to complete?
Now that I’ve sold a few pieces and I’m beginning to create a collection of work, I’m constantly questioning value and pricing. What makes one artwork worth a million dollars and another worth fifty? Does the attention to detail matter? What draws an art collector to one specific piece over another?
I’m guessing that there are probably a million different answers to those questions. As an emerging artist it’s the kind of thing that can drive one quite mad. But after some time, I came to the conclusion that as long as I put my heart and soul into it, whether it takes me a few hours or a few weeks, it indeed holds great value. It may not be the monetary kind, but worth can’t always be measured in money now can it?
Yesterday was my dad’s birthday, and so I thought I’d dedicate this blog entry to the awesomeness that is my dad. Typically I would be over at my parent’s home celebrating with him. But this fall my parents moved to Florida, and this is the first time as far back as I can remember that we weren’t together. Life changes, and so we must adapt.
How can I describe my dad? He is kind, funny, intelligent, and a bit of a dreamer. He loves to have fun and always must be the center of attention, but in a way that most people find endearing. He has the best smile. He likes to sing from the top of his lungs (with his not-so-good musical voice I might add), he randomly races young twenty-somethings in his Cadillac with a Corvette engine, and he can spend a whole day at the beach just bathing in the sun. He enjoys simple pleasures and takes life in one day at a time. Most adults forget what it’s like to be a child, but this guy embraces his inner-child like no other; I think that’s what I like most about him.
One day I found a picture of my dad in an old album when my mom and I were visiting, and I made the portrait above. I think he looks so handsome. It was the first time I saw what he looked like as a young man. He and I are similar in many ways, born in the same month and all; I’d like to think we have a special sort of father-daughter bond where most of the time we just get each other. We can sit for hours discussing his crazy philosophies of life, drinking, singing, and just having fun. So here’s to the very cool guy that happens to be my dad...cheers to you sir; you beautiful human you!
Stories about how art inspires and changes us.