I felt loose tonight. That means I enjoyed the process, never mind the outcome. If you'd like, I was in the zone, as they say. Mind you, no one ever said if the zone produced good or bad work. It just feels good being in that place. I also experienced the zone when I ran trails on my way home from work. I was in a good frame of mind after showering up and having dinner.
There is still the problem that I am not crazy about acrylics. When I open a tube the color sort of drips out. And, there is no distinctive smell. Not all my senses are in play.
Now, oil paints - they turn me on. The colors are vibrant, they're creamy and they squeeze out of the tube with thickness, depth and so much potential. I love that smell of fresh oil paint. The entire painting process with oils is sensuous. As for acrylics, well, it's all about getting the job done before the paint dries up on the palette. Nothing sensuous there.
Stuck with acrylics as I am with this project, I was relaxed with my medium tonight and sort of in a Zen moment. I was playing Live, a band I like and know nothing about, sipping on a scotch, and enjoying making a mild mess in our living room/studio. I decided all the sweeping, grassy, blowing motion from Day 1 was too literal. I knew it wasn't going to last when I laid it down. I wanted something edgier. Something darker. So I struck out with the high horizon line painted in black, ultramarine blue and hansa yellow light. I like hansa yellow light - I know it from oils and it feels like an old friend. I sort of like what is happening in this section. Here's a close-up.
The color is stormy. So this accounts for about the top 1/6th of the painting. There is still a whole lot of turf to cover and Zeke's parting words for me were, "I want to see a whole lot of paint on that canvas when I return." I love a challenge.
So I squeezed and oozed large globs of paint onto my palette and into dishes. And I remembered Lois saying she likes to use foam brushes on occasion, so I tried that. I used some of my trusty oil brushes - they feel good in the hand but I fear they are too small. Nonetheless, I painted. I reacted to color, I played with brushstrokes. I covered things up and added strokes next to strokes. Admittedly, I am not crazy about the outcome from tonight's little session, but I am finally getting some layers on the canvas. And that's when things begin to happen.
I betcha that by the time I work through this, those orange fringy things will be part of our distant past. But as they say in Israel, "le-at, le-at," slowly, slowly. Layer upon layer. Color, wiping, more color, scratching, stroking. Who knows where it will lead. And that's the fun of it all.
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