My conflict continues.
I began last week by sharing my ongoing tug-of-war with you, and I've come to report that the battle is ongoing.
Though I will admit, what began as an intimidating opposition is slowly becoming a patient mentor.
I am still working on my florals, opting to understand them through both the lens of paint and pencil.
I've moved on to my largest painting yet, and in preparation for it, I thought I'd try to understand my subject in my sketchbook first. Maybe I'd find confidence in what I feel to be a more comforting, simpler medium.
And yet, I was quickly disillusioned by any possibility that the subject would somehow simplify itself. There is no avoiding the layers and layers of petals I lost myself in during the previous week.
Still, I wouldn't let the disillusionment turn into discouragement.
I feel really lucky to have been an artist for as long as I have. Beginning my personal studies in childhood has built a reservoir of confidence that I can tap into whenever a project feels daunting. If I could teach myself sketching, painting, color theory, anatomy—whatever feels impossible now can be learned, refined, and mastered in time.
And what a perfect subject to emphasize that necessity for patience.
You can see my current progression on my latest project above. I like to document as I go as an extra, tangible piece of evidence that there is always progress.
I continue my endeavors this week with slowly feathering petals, polishing brass, and enhancing both the bouquet and my understanding of it—all through brush and canvas.
I hear peonies are in season now. We'll see if they make an appearance in the studio this week.
Until next time,
M.E.