I found myself without a clue what to do after an idea Id cradled in my mind for the last few days just wouldn't translate to paper the way I wanted it to...such is the life of a painter (sigh).
I began drawing randomly (after a cup of tea and 100 cadbury chocolate fingers to console myself), and ended up with half a design for a Get Well card - it may not turn into anything more than what it is now but it seems to be unfolding nicely all things considered.
I keep going back to it, adding bits with watercolour crayon - so it still has the chance to blossom into a finished piece....god ive got so many unfinished pieces lurking about, I found one whilst hunting out a certain watercolour block and it was something I did whilst living on the Isle of Wight a few summers ago, a large canvas painted in a deep and serene blue with a spiralling shoal of golden fish, from big to small as they swam into the infinite ultramarine of the deep. Some of the fish had been rendered with a golden medium that lent a shimmer to their orangey yellow bodies - I wondered why the hell Id never finished that piece because it would have been awesome. Thing is, I know its something that will probably never be touched again, but something inside prevents me from throwing it out for the dustman...
I wonder what prevents us completing the journey of every painting?
Maybe its just the way I am - I tire easily of something that quickly becomes mundane...too often have I found fresh enthusiasm for a new idea whilst in the midst of a project that all too soon has become dull and lacklustre in comparison with what lies, tantilisingly, ahead of me.
The taste of anticipation is a beautiful flavour, and I admit that I am often seduced by the idea rather than what is actually involved.
Maybe this is the essence of an artist...maybe it is this that compells us to create, this taste of anticipation, the excitement of new inspiration that teases us away from our loyal subject matter. Maybe if we didnt experience those feelings we would never create art from the soul - it would be mechanical and lacking in spirit, there would be no essence in a painting that was done by a bored artist who felt that they had to complete a piece simply because they had started it.
Maybe its all part of the journey.
Finding our way as creative pioneers, discovering our own true style and finding deep within the stuff that makes us tick.