Apples of Gold in Settings of Silver

Edgar Payne said "knowledge precedes execution". For a long time I didn't really know what he meant by that. But I've come to realize he meant you have to know what to do next, before you can proceed.

What do you do when you don't know what to do next? Sometimes I reach a point in a painting where I'm not sure how to proceed. I've learned from experience the best thing to do at this point is stop. 

Last Light

16" by 20"

Last Light is a painting that I'm calling finished. I started it a few years ago. It's undergone a few versions, but it wasn't until this last one came to mind that I was satisfied with it. Most paintings don't take a few years to finish, but I'm glad I've learned to be patient enough to let that happen if needed. 

I've ruined so many paintings over the years by trying to continue when I wasn't sure how to go about it. What to do then? I've found having a few paintings you've started is a great way to get a lot of mileage without ruining any of them. When you've come to the end of knowledge on one painting, you can go to another.

This painting is in the works, but I've reached a point where I need to stop until I know what to do next. It isn't quite where I want it to be, and I don't want to lose the good I have by trying things that are just guesses. I can let it rest a bit until I know what to do next.

I try to have at least four paintings going at once. More is even better! When I've reached a stopping point with one, I can go to another one. Usually my stopping point is because I'm not sure how to proceed. Working on a different painting for a while helps me to see the other one with fresh eyes when I go back to it.

I can work on this one for awhile without feeling pressure to finish the one above. There are also a few on my shelf that are in progress. It's great to have options!

Sometimes working on the next painting helps me solve whatever problem I had with the previous one. Insights come, confidence is recovered and I can go on. 

Other times I don't find the solution so quickly. When that happens I still have paintings I can complete rather than going around and around with frustrating attempts with the other. I've ruined far fewer paintings since learning to work on multiple paintings at a time.

What about you? 

Do you have a dedicated space for your art? I know lots of people just starting out don't have that. I remember not having a space as a child, but as soon as I committed to being an artist in my early forties, I made a studio on the front porch. (It was enclosed and heated). Of course that might be because being an artist was always serious to me.

Not that I always have been unafraid to show my work. Nothing like that. The seriousness was about having a space and doing the work. It seemed apparent that there had to be a space that was just for that. I knew if I had to drag everything out and put it away every time I was going to paint, it would hardly ever get done.

That first space wasn't much. As I said, it was on the porch. It probably took up about sixty square feet. But it held my art books, pastels, drawing materials, and a flimsy easel, which was actually a display easel. The light was south and east, not north, but that was okay. It was my place. 

It was always ready for use when I was ready to use it.

Back then I was a single mom of two kids, going to school and working a couple of part time jobs. Later, when I remarried, and moved into my husband's house, there was no studio. Every room had a purpose. And it was, in my opinion, a pretty fancy house. Not the kind you would use any of as a studio.

New carpet, real furniture from a furniture store, not used furniture from a second hand store. But it wasn't long before the dining room, which never got used for eating in anyway, became a makeshift studio and study area.

When we built our current house, the "den" became the studio. It was about ten by ten. It sufficed until my son moved out and I immediately made his old bedroom and the den into one room. That was my studio for twenty years, until I moved downstairs last August. Whew!

Here you can see my old framing and shipping area from when I did Ebay, my pastel painting area and the drawing board I got from an oil company's drafting room.

This is my current set up for oil and pastel painting spots. I added the rug to brighten up the space. It has great light from the north facing windows, on all the painting areas. The easels can be moved around as needed. I think this is my favorite place so far, despite having very fond memories of them all!

My gouache and online work spots, along with a chair to scrutinize my paintings from. At the other end of the room are shelves to hold small paintings and studies, framing tools and a framing table, as well as small shipping supplies.

Honestly, I sometimes dream about how to set it up if the entire room was my studio. At the moment it doubles as an Airbnb rental. The beginning of the week is blocked off from people being able to book, so there's enough time for painting. The Bnb is available on weekends. Maybe someday the whole space will be for painting. 

So, how important is it anyway, to have a dedicated space for your work? Super important! I once read about an artist who used a second  bathroom for her studio. She understood the importance of a dedicated place to paint.

How about you? Do you have a place to do your painting? I hope so. And if not, I hope you will consider making a place for it.

Do you get cranky if you go too long without painting? Apparently I do. I didn't realize it until someone pointed it out to me. Really, at first I didn't believe it. 

But, then I noticed it was true. Ha! Who knew? Apparently that person did. Maybe other people did too . . . 

It's been helpful to know about this. Before I would just assume I was in a bad mood and needed to "suck it up and get over it", whatever "it" might be. That could be part of it, but the bad mood starts when I go too long without painting.

It often begins with a sort of unvocalized sense of guilt. It hangs over my head, and dogs me throughout the day. One of those general senses that you try to shrug off and make go away. After a while it keeps nagging. That's when the grouch starts to set in.

I know both my studio and work have been abandoned - by me. The guilt and frustration build. 

It often leaves me feeling not like myself. As though I don't have any definition or sense of personhood. I forget what I like and what I don't like. I don't remember what I've been doing with my time, but I know I've been busy. 

Sometimes it happens because I say yes to too many requests, thinking each time that it will be okay this time and then I'll get back to painting, but often it goes on for too long.

That's what happened last year. It went on and on and actually caused some physical illness eventually. Thankfully it wasn't very serious, but it was real! I said yes to too many things to please others and paid the price for it.

Once you start saying yes to too many things other than your painting, it seems to snowball. It's easy to blame it on people who just won't stop asking you to do things. Then the resentment starts. 

Then, if you're like me, you get confused because aren't you supposed to do that? Put others ahead of yourself, I mean. Not think too highly of yourself, and esteem others more highly? Then I'm in a mess, feeling guilty for not painting, guilty for resenting people who ask me to do things and thoroughly confused. And VERY cranky!

How about you? Do you get cranky when you go too long without painting?