vision and revision

There are times when the work just flows, and times when it doesn't, as creative people generally know and experience. For seven weeks now, I've been painting for fifteen hours or more each week, showing up in the studio on a daily basis, and the practice has become an established habit, which was my original goal. (Yay! Check that one off the list!) As time goes by, I experience both days when the work flows and days when it doesn't. Because I know I'll be back tomorrow, I don't panic when things don't go well. Nor do I take it for granted when the process flows and the results are pleasing. I pretty much know that it probably won't happen two days in a row, but it happens often enough that I don't get discouraged.

I would like to figure how what it is that makes things go well when they do. Am I more relaxed? I don't think so. Do I have a different attitude, for example curiosity and playfulness rather than determination and focus? I don't think so, either. Do I have more of a plan for what I do, or less of one? Neither. Do I paint more quickly, more instinctively, more carefully, more casually, more daringly, more cautiously? I can’t say that any of these characteristics are consistently present when the process flows, nor when it doesn’t. Whatever happens, just sort of happens.

If I can’t identify what makes things flow – or not – the implication is that I will never be able to count on the process going well. Books and magazines are full of articles about how to get the process flowing, from carefully planning and executing to relaxing and letting things go, and numerous methods in between. My personal tendency is to try to note what techniques work, and when, to achieve some effect that I want, and to consciously know what I am doing. This is much of what my hours in the studio are spent doing: experimenting and then documenting the successes.

But if I can’t control the flow, I would still like to know how to encourage it, if such a thing is possible. At present, about all I can do is show up and have faith that it might happen. Maybe someday I’ll find a hook that helps it happen on a consistent basis.

Another salient issue related to this phenomenon is how to make progress when the materials aren't cooperating. I am gradually learning tendencies to avoid (my obsession this past week has been about piling up paint too thickly). Looking for danger signals as a painting progresses is a good method for avoiding major problems, but it is inevitable that the learning process be full of problem solving. I’ve done a lot of dissolving and scraping this past week, and it has been something of a breakthrough that I have successfully brought to conclusion two paintings that in earlier stages had been “ruined”. I do generally have a vision – if a vague one – of what I want to produce, and in many ways these days it is just a question of how much revision it will take to get there.

The image above is of a much revised 24” x 30” piece that I have declared to be finished. The bottom section is thicker than I like in some areas, but I have reworked it so many times that I finally declared, “DONE!” I think it will do. On the other hand, I can always scrape it down again….