So today was stinky in the art studio. A day of utter frustration and dissatisfaction. Nothing looks the way I want it to. I’ve come to the conclusion that painting pretty pictures doesn’t come easy for me, not like it does for others, and that both annoys me and challenges me. In fact, it’s probably why I started doing it in the first place. The challenge.
Writing comes much easier for me, it always has. Put me in a room with a pad and pen or a laptop and tell me to write for ten or twelve hours straight and I could do it. Not a problem. Give me a subject and I can write a story about it, maybe three or four stories, given enough time.
But a blank canvas…. (shudder). That still intimidates me. It mocks, me, challenges me, dares me to create something worthy, something that ANYone could find value or beauty in.
I suppose that’s just the sort of thing I need in my life right now. These things tend to come to you when you need them. Something that baffles me, puzzles me, makes me try harder. Persevere. I don’t want those “muscles” to go soft on me, after all. I don’t want to just be spoiled to doing only that which comes easy.
So. Tomorrow I will face the canvas again with new resolve. It won’t get the better of me, it won’t beat me down or scare me away. Gonna put on my Big Girl Panties and my painting clothes and get after it.