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Going Old School

New Year resolution number three: Post blog earlier. I have promised this on a number of occasions, but it just never seems to happen. I let too many other things to get in the way. Today I took care of some very important things, but then I made time, daylight time, for art. The result? Probably one of the best things I’ve done in a while, and I did it “old school”. By that I mean in a continuation of the last few days of painting without thinking too much about it, or obsessing over whether what I am doing is “wrong” or “right”, I just painted. Think of it like a small child. Children have no in-habitations. No one has told them yet that they have to be deadly serious all the time, or not find joy in the silly things. I was like that when I began to paint all those years ago. Without someone to tell me I was wrong, I painted for the sheer joy of it. It was only when I did try to take art in college that I was told I didn’t know what I was doing. It’s why I switched majors. I lost the freedom of expression that came in those early days. I became hung up on the rights and wrongs, the lack of art lessons, and in general my self-esteem, which while not great in everyday life, was stellar compared to my artistic self-confidence. I am three-quarters of the way through this year-long project, and it is without a doubt one of the best things I have ever done for myself. I am feeling confident in my work, and have lost the chip that occupied my shoulder for far too long. Today I truly went old school. I sat on the floor and painted. It’s how I began painting, sitting on an attic floor in our Chicago Bungalow, not enough light streaming through the window, but it was my space to paint, and that made me happy. I have two standing easels. One is large and heavy, Dan bought it for me at an antique store years ago. It was downstairs in our home, and I didn’t want Dan to go to the trouble of  bringing it up. The other broke earlier today. It fell over several times yesterday. I kept knocking it over as I cleaned. This afternoon I grabbed my palette, paints, brushes and water (I was painting in acrylic), and sat on the floor, my canvas leaning against a bookcase. I turned on my music and painted just as I did when I was a teen. Two and a half hours flew by. I was happy and content. I think it shows in the work. The painting is of a tree I have often admired when down at the shore in La Jolla. I was there one evening as the sun was setting and snapped a few photos. I’ve often thought of painting one of the photos. I love the color, and hope I have done it justice.12 28

 

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