A wounded ego is not easily healed. I remember walking up the stairs to a snooty gallery. I was full of confidence.
Snooty Gallery Does art belong in a snooty gallery? Does it belong in a snooty home?
Is it the price of art that saperates it from the common man? What common man will part with money ment for bread to purchase art? In a gallery, or a museum, this man could appreciate it for a moment.
Paintings Speak Paintings speak. Paintings speak in much the way God speaks. It expounds a thing, a truth, or a point of view that reveals a truth. Just when you think you've discovered it's secret, a new secret reveals itself. Or you experience life in a new way, then you are ready to learn something new from a painting.
I am not suggesting, that a painting is God, or can replace God in anyway, Nor can it even exist apart from God. On the contrary it has been said, frequently, that the artist is a channel. He records what God reveals.
Preperations I did not make any preperations for my run as 30dayartist. I did not buy paint or plan what to paint... but I feel ready.
"By the fall, the human race not only died from God, but it well into disunison with itself; that means it is possible for someone to live in one of the three parts of his or her nature." -Oswald Chambers
Body, spirit and soul.
All three have to be in unison to make art.
Today, my body is not cooperating. In the month leading up to this, I did not make and external preparations. But I was preparing my spirit and my soul. Unknowingly I neglected my body. I ate all the wrong things and didn't drink enough water.
I woke up today at 2am dehydrated, I was coughing and sneezing and my nose was completely blocked. I went to work today and was useless there. At 3pm I came home and slept. Now I made a deal with my body, "you've slept, you've eaten, now bare with me for a while, and lets do a picture, it will be fun".
When was the last time you made a picture for the fun of it? Imagine if there was no term 'artist', and everyone was an artist. And we didn't make pictures with the intention to sell.. Well that is the only kind of picture I was able to make today, and I'm happier for it.
For those of you who need some entry points to look at this ,try these: Storm - Sea - Ship - Cloud - Light-Waves. ( go on scroll up, and take a look again, take your time & really look)
A special thank you to everyone who was nice to me today, because I am sick. And thank you Jan, for dropping by and commenting, your paintings are lovely.
"..we glided between 2 whales into the innermost heart of the shoal, as if from some mountain torrent we had slid into a sereen valley lake. Here the storms in the roaring glens between the outermost whales, were heard but not felt. " - Moby Dick
"Yes, we were now in the enchanted calm which tey say lurks at the heart of every commotion"-Moby Dick
I used unconvetional materials to make this piece, digging through my drawers at home i found pastels, acrylics, pattern paper, designer markers, watercolours and a host of drawing tools. I haven't done a mixed media piece in a long time, and it was great to just dig in there.
Again my body gave me brief respite, and allowed me to do this piece of work. My flu is taking it's course and has turned into a bitter dry cough. I hope I can get into the studio tomorrow.
At the very least, I want to clean it up tomorrow. Most of the paintings you see there are from my last time around
Maybe tomorrow, some of you guys can help me promote 30 day artist.
"After many ... hair bredth escapes, we at last swiftly glided into what had been one of the outer circles, but now crossed by random whales, all violently making for one center. This lucky salvation was cheeply purchased by the loss of queequeg's hat."-Moby Dick
A cough could seize me at any moment. I don't recognise my voice. It whezees. I have a bit of a headache. On and off.
And I actually finished another painting, but in my hurry to photograph it while it was still wet, I fear I may have ruined it.
But compared to 2 days ago, I feel great.
Sometimes all we need is a bit of perspective. By wednesday, I'll probably be fighting fit again and I won't remember what being sick was like.
Today Jr. died, he's a 12 year old rodisian ridgeback. That's like 100 of our years! So I guess he lived a good live. His owner's probably really sad though, so stop by and say something nice.
Also today, Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin, died. yup. Stung by a sting ray. Don't Laugh, it may be funny to you, but to someone else it's earth shattering. Or at the very least just plain: Not Funny. (my girlfriend thought me that today)
So that's my painting of Jr. going to heaven an Steve Irwin hot on his heels!
I mean the artist studio should get half the credit. And the artist's Mom. And Dad. And sisters who buy buns for their artist brothers. And sisters that say "I guess i won't be seeing much of you for a month", with a cute little pout.
And Miles Davis, should get some credit, because it gives the artist studio that artist studio feel. And you should get some credit too.
The first time I bring someone into my studio, the only response I ever get is, "wow". I've gotten it from artist. From wealthy businessmen. From travelers. From kids. Anyone. Everyone.
I know it's not my art that wow's them. It's the place.
I can ask for a higher price for a painting from inside the studio, then i could from a sidewalk cafe.
It's the kind of studio you dream of working all your life for. And when you're there, you get a studio to match.
As I cleaned up my studio, I went through print outs designs and paintings I had done. I picked up a piece of paper with a story on it. A story I did an illustration in a magazine for. Me! I dreamt of all this, a long time ago.. A studio(although in my dreams it was smaller) , doing illustrations for magazines. Selling Paintings! Me!
When I dremt all this... there was no inbetween. Just me a below average kid, with an above average knack for getting into trouble. Even going to art school was beyond my wildest dreams! ..or at least at the very edge of them.
Cleaning up my studio, was like going into my memory and arranging it neatly.
The magazine I used to do the illustrations for has been cancelled. I'll be moving out of this studio soon, I never did it justice. But I say this with the biggest smile on my face for ever having a chance to taste my dreams.
Which brings me back to artist getting too much credit. What did I do? What was my part in all this, apart from dreaming? As far as I know it's all an undeserved gift. Or one thousand undeserved gifts. When is a gift really a 'gift', unless it's undeserved right!
So if I give nothing back, ( and I do hope to give someting back, starting with my run as 30day artist) at least let me give back all credit to where it is due. To mum and dad. And everyone who invested even the least in me, from a pep talk, to a good wolloping, to the smallest of kind gestures. And of course Miles Davis. A big Kudos to all of you!
Now if you'll excuese me, it's 8.40 pm, and I'm still in the office. I got to get back to work. ( bet you thought I'll say i'm off to paint. I'll paint, after my work is done:)
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I recond, I could not paint in a diffrent stlye..anymore than a singer could sing with a diffrent voice.
I mean no matter how good a singer is, however wide a range the singer has. That's it. They cannot sing beyond that.
And I suggest today, that, that limit; that range, is style. It's pretty much an expression of who you are this moment. Your temperment, your state of mind, your level of understanding, your confidence level, your nievity, your physical condition... all these things determine your style.
I used to think that style was something you decide on and work towards.
But today I realize, it's not. Your style is, what you are.
Thanks CY for the flattering Intro + great run!
"Yes, we were now in the enchanted calm which tey say lurks at the heart of every commotion" - 
At the very least, I want to clean it up tomorrow. Most of the paintings you see there are 
ship in white waters.
dark sky
