I am a messy painter. Actually I am messy full stop. I can't even use charcoal without getting it all over my face and in my hair. Some times I plan to be careful - put newspaper down to protect the carpet and furniture, wear my oldest clothes - too frequently I simply forget. The urge to paint or draw is a single minded impulse. There are few things capable of distracting me once it strikes. Which explains why most of my clothes have acquired extra design elements, otherwise known as paint splatters. Perhaps the non-existence of a social life is a lucky thing. What would I wear if I did go out?
Speaking of which, I received a text from a friend yesterday asking me if I would like to be involved with an art group that she and a few other students from university are starting up. My first instinct was to say no. The habit of hibernation runs deep. However the lure of other artists to talk to and maybe a little fun, as well as the fact that L had thought to include me, is temptation enough to give it a go.
I won't be able to go to the first meeting, which is today. My financial situation is still too precarious to stray from my budget. Even for bus fare. At the moment the only income I have is Child Benefit and Child Tax Credit, although hopefully, my Disability Living Allowance will be paid into the bank today. The way the system works I was unable to claim benefit until the 3rd of July, which left two or three weeks with nothing at all. I had planned for this, but unfortunately the money claimed back by the Student Loan Company wiped out what I had managed to save. Fingers crossed that the powers that be do not take too long to process my claim.
I have been busy over the last few days working on a painting. 'Not every thing works' has been my mantra. My experiments this summer are about learning to handle paint and about practising my drawing skills. As you might guess from those statements, frustration levels have been running high.
I began with a charcoal sketch. Not great, but the composition interested me.
Nervous about using oils, I decided to underpaint with acrylics.
By the time I had finished the first couple of layers with oils I was aching to take a pair of scissors to the painting. At this stage, I felt that I had ruined a reasonable sketch beyond redemption.
Oddly enough, looking at the photograph of this stage, I feel less negatively about it. The high contrast is interesting and I think I could possibly of pursued this.
I worked on the painting until the early hours of this morning and was up again, paint brush in hand by 5.30 am. It looks very different from the previous image and better in a larger size (click on it). I quite like some of the transitions, but it is still far from the image i wanted to make.
Oil paints frustrate me. I find them so difficult to handle effectively. Yet I love them. The smell, the texture, the colours. Their versatility in the hands of someone who knows what they are doing.
I think that today I will put away my sketch book, my paints and do something else. Leave the painting to dry, avoid it for a few days. I doubt that it will improve with keeping, but perhaps I can learn some lessons when I am able to look at it with a more objective eye.