Yesterday, I quickly brushed in some color and blocked in some forms on the new painting. I am thinking how cool it looks right now with the large figure not even filled in yet. I'm being careful to leave some of the reddish undercoat showing through my layers of brushwork. The contrast of different colors is exciting. The process of painting itself reveals what direction to take, as if I am being guided along by an invisible force. No real decisions are made ahead of time, except in the preliminary sketch where I worked out a composition. Even that may change as I go along, but at least I have a starting place, a skeleton. My pencil sketch evolved out of the process of erasing and re-drawing and feeling it out.
I use "memories of what life feels like" when I do my art. That is one of my main tools. I take a walk and look at the sky. I feel the sun and smell the flowers. I gaze at the trees.
It feels the same as it did when I was a kid.
I get to exist right in the moment when I paint or draw. Everything else falls away. It is such a joy to escape into art, to focus on the process. Painting itself can be quite a struggle and it's outcome unknown.
It is about continual change, sort of like life itself or the weather. Gotta have faith and confidence that it'll all work out in the end, no matter how long it takes.
I just do my thing and work it out.