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Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Staying in Process























"Hot Off the Press" original oil 6x6"


It's an ongoing challenge, how to stay in process. How does one avoid being lured out of process by shifting our focus to the end result before the painting is halfway done?


For the longest time I thought paintings should unfold in an undeviating line - beginning, middle, end. That it should be straightforward from start to finish, no detours, no wrong turns, a neat little process ending in a solid painting. Not so. Here's what mostly happens: I start out all excited and inspired, get some paint on the canvas and things are coming together reasonably well, and then the painting starts to go sideways. When that occurs it is remarkable to me how it feels like something is slipping away, how my focus shifts to, "Good God Ethel, what if it doesn't turn out? What if I've wasted all the time spent on it? What if my galleries fire me because I don't have enough paintings this month? What if I'm a total hack?" An imposter, as Robert Genn calls it. Suddenly the whole thing has ceased to be about painting a painting, and become about something else entirely.


After a lot of paintings and a lot of thinking like this, it began to occur to me that unless you're painting by a formula, pretty much EVERY SINGLE PAINTING does this at some point. Goes through the ugly duckling stage while it, not you, is figuring out if it's going to be a swan. It is not a static thing, what's unfolding on the easel, it's something that begins to take on a life of its own, to have its own ideas about the outcome. What's really cool is that it's willing to engage you in the process if you're paying attention, and when you are, that's painting a painting. Whatever the outcome.

17 comments:

  1. I love reading your blog, Liz! You always have so much insight to share. It seems all my paintings go through that same ugly duckling stage (when I feel like a fraud!) and sometimes its not right until the end when I add the final lights and darks that it finally works. Or not! And I'm more willing now to paint over paintings that I finally realize aren't really that good. Trying to not feel that each painting is precious - It's just practice.

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  2. Yay Lisa, so right on! Practise. I try to tell myself, especially on the ‘failed’ ones, that every brushstroke I put down is making me a better painter.

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  3. Wonderful painting Liz and I like how you stated the feelings that so many of us share!

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  4. Great painting! I love the cord and how you painted the metal. I hate to iron and with this one it must have been even worse to keep clothes pressed.

    Your thoughts are on target. Thanks for sharing!

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  5. As I was reading this, I thought, "She's in my head!" Looks like we are not alone in having these thoughts. Thanks for sharing your ideas on this one! Your medal work on this is right on.

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  6. I am really enjoying your blog Liz. I can really relate, especially to the starting out with such excitement. Nothing like the possiblitlies of a fresh canvas. I try to keep that fresh feeling going but it is tough. I also really enjoy your art, very inspiring!

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  7. Thanks Amanda! I'm with you on starting out with excitement...I have never understood the concept that a blank canvas is intimidating. To me it's the 3/4's finished painting that's working that is intimidating. Once it becomes precious, you're in a straight jacket for the rest of it! (In more ways than one).

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  8. Liz, I am so glad you shared this! I have such trouble finishing a painting. Like you said...it's the 3/4 finished ones that I don't want to screw up that drive me crazy! An older artist friend of mine said about unfinished pieces - "Don't fall in love with it!" Boy, did she know what she was talking about. Am loving your artwork BTW!!!

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  9. GOOD GOD ETHEL, indeed! Thanks for the Facebook prompt to come here for that! Comments on my blog are just what I want yet I don't remember to go looking for them! Thanks for taking the time to look at it. I love checking in on yours. You write as well as you paint. If I didn't already love you, I'd hate you xox

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  10. Hi Liz: I'm new to your blog but have always loved your work and for the first emailed "blog spot" from you was right on! I too have trouble with the last 1/4 of the painting ( maybe even 1/2). I seem to be so nice and loose and free in the beginning and then it all goes a-wall...
    You are sure not alone in your analysis of how this "painting" thing works!
    Thanks, Liz! ( I wish I could have been one of the painters to accompany you and R. Genn in the "mountain paint out" maybe next time?)

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  11. Great thoughts and musings and more for me to think about and learn from. I just LOVE this painting. I remember ironing with this old style iron. It does appear to be looming from the past.

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  12. This painting is so wonderfully nostalgic. Those old heavy irons ironed like nobody's business! And every single one of them had that black and white cloth wire that frayed and threatened to burst into flame at any moment. Of course there had to the accompanying giant coke bottle with the sprinkle top. Wonderful job!

    And thanks for reading my mind about the kamikaze paintings. Will they land or will they crash? It's a cliffhanger every time.

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  13. What a great attitude you have! This is a beautiful painting, how remarkable that you've taken an ordinary every day subject and made it into something beautiful to behold.
    Reading your post reminded me of the painting i did a couple of weeks ago, and I posted an in-progress shot, when I got to that stage I wondered how the painting was ever going to turn out. But somehow it did. Next time I'll be a little more aware of the whole process. Thank you for a great post.
    Joan

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  14. I was at a Carol Marine workshop in Santa Fe and it was the first day of a weeklong event. None of us knew each other or Carol yet. We are in the middle of our first demo and I blurt out "Oh My God! I'm so glad to see that YOUR paintings go through a stage where they look like crap too!!!"
    It just slipped out, and needless to say it broke the ice. I have since then been patient when I have gotten to that point in a painting when I think there is no way it can be revived....I know there is still hope right up until the last hightlight is added.

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  15. LOL...fell out of my chair reading that post Lorrie, thanks for the laugh!

    Having studied with Carol, I'm sure she got a good laugh out of it too, while secretly thinking, "Damn, Im not the only one who knows I'm up to my neck in alligators here..."

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  16. LOL Carol was very good natured about it, of course. She even told me later that she tells students about it now in her other classes!

    Really love your blog!

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  17. Liz - I am so in love with this iron painting. Absolutely wonderful and painterly and all-together perfect.

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