STOP THINKING, JUST PAINT

The title kind of says it all.

 

In spring 2024, I spent nearly four months on two paintings (the buildings and the two rooster-people and buildings).  I must have repainted both several times over, endlessly fussing over color, edges, shapes, space…you name it.  The result were two paintings I didn’t like very much.  Painting had stopped being fun.  Painting was a chore.  My paintings were dead on arrival.

 

Coming into summer 2024, working with Professor Amanda Burnham for the first time, she started off our time together with three strong pieces of guidance.

1. That I can draw.  Stop letting the “I can’t draw” narrative win and just draw.

2. That I’ve done enough research. I’ve loaded up my brain with enough ideas, let’s see what comes out.  I don’t need to plan everything—I can just paint.

3. That I should explore color harmony.  Stop using every tube of paint I own.

 

What came out this summer is much of the work you see here, give or take.  I can’t emphasize enough what these paintings mean to me, not because they’re genius, or polished, or even finished.  They represent a shift in my self-belief and a newly found joy that painting is fun again.  

 

Further, by letting go of strict planning, some new ideas started to emerge.  I’m slowing finding a way out of my medieval mindset and edging closer to a more personal narrative.  I’m pulling together threads like my lifelong fascination with magic, my love of animals (and frankly how animals make more sense to me than people), and my background in theatre for young audiences.  Who we are matters to our art.  Our stories, like our paint strokes, are unique.  For myself, I’m in a space where I don’t need to be seen as a “serious” artist and instead am embracing the weird alchemy that has been my 43 years on this earth.  

 

So, enjoy these images, or don’t.  I didn’t paint them for you.