Resistance Mode was Back

So, let’s just say I let Mr. Resistance stay a couple of days longer than I would like. Let’s just say, he made himself kinda comfortable here and decided he might help a little around here. Let’s also just say, I needed someone to kick me.

Resistance mode is not pretty, but this new work might be
It’s a nice thing to volunteer for the church, work hard, have a nice time with friends and fellow volunteers. It’s quite another to lose all momentum on the creative front just because I wasn’t painting for a week.
Being an artist is not easy at all.
Coming out of resistance mode is like climbing out of a deep crevasse, I just don’t want to have to cut my arm off to come free. 
In the depth of my blah-dom, my don’t-feel-like-painting mood, while the new work sat waiting on my easel/desk, I wasted more time by surfing the internet. Bad.
Yeah, I get on, promote my stuff, spill some thoughts, share others. Blah blah blah. Knowing I’d get a little help from artist friends online I shared that the weather is rainy, there’s no motivation, maybe I should read a book, and would someone just kick me. Wouldn’t you know it, that’s exactly what one artist did. He commented: Here’s your kick. I love it!
Funny thing though, it worked. 
Thankfully, the new work was ready to go or it would not be pretty.

Photo for Friday and More

Afternoon Sunflowers, 14×20 Watercolor
©2011 Dora Sislian Themelis

The latest watercolor painting is finished. Twenty minutes of painting time has it’s merits, and it’s detractions.

On the one hand, painting for twenty minutes keeps me in line. I can’t get too busy in the details to end up trashing my work. It helps that I must step away from the painting to see it better and decide where to work next. And then there’s the drying time. All good things so far.

On the other hand I could walk away after twenty minutes of painting and quite possibly never go back. That could last a couple days and I’ll never finish the work so I could start another. I’m not the type of person to have a couple of paintings working at the same time, so that’s not helpful. I turn to jewelry or knitting if I’m not painting the latest piece. Kind of not good.

All in all the time limit thing has been positive. Ok so, I’m not cranking out painting after painting on a regular basis, or enough to paint the 100 paintings in the year. I’m working toward that goal, but anything could derail that plan.

I made a commitment, and I’d like to see it through, but the larger I paint the less work that gets done. Rather than paint little paintings, which are fine, I want to open up and work larger. Packing a lot of painting on a small surface sometimes doesn’t do justice to the work. Little by little I’m working it up in size.

Can twenty minutes translate on a larger surface? With the right brushes, subject, and mindset, maybe it’s a Yes. Could I push myself to work every day for the twenty minutes? Or, work all day on one work twenty minutes at a time? I just don’t know about that, Artist A.D.D. and all.

What is your Creative Code?

Seeing that I’ve been having a bit of resistance fun with the master, Mr. Resistance, I kicked it up a notch. How? Oh no, not by painting, mind you. By going back to reading my kick-me-in-the-butt creativity books. Well, yes, I finished Artist’s Way and it helped immensely. Now it’s Twyla Tharp and her book The Creative Habit.

I left it off for a while, having beat Mr. Resistance at his game. Notice I said for a while? Well, art, as life, is a roller coaster with ups and downs. So it is that I’m on the downward slope right now. Painting in fits and starts, as is my habit when it begins. Some days are freer than others and I can get to paint, but only if I’m prepared. Other days who feels like doing anything?

So it’s back to the book for me right now. Need a little fire lit under me. Maybe it’s the weather?

Chapter 3 is entitled Your Creative DNA. Tharp suggests we all have a “creative code”, a kind of creative hard wiring, our own distinct creative personality. Some how we have to tap into that and find what works for us creatively. Are we working hard to be a photographer, but we are really a dancer deep down? It’s like that.

“Rare is the painter who is equally adept at miniatures and epic series, or the writer who is at home in both historical sagas and finely observed short stores” writes Tharp. How we artists need to work is inside each of us. Some painters need to see paintings from a distance, others need to see the brush strokes a nose away. Tharp calls this focal length. Each of us “focus best at some specific spot along the spectrum.”

Some artists see the big picture. Others like specificity. Tharp explains this by the ancient Greek words Zoe and Bios, both of which mean life, but not the same state of life. She says zoe “is like seeing Earth from space”, bios “distinguishes one life from another.”

I guess it’s a matter of expansive vision or minute detail. How do we see ourselves, our art?

Getting a “handle on that creative identity” is key. Finding out who we really are in terms of our view is how we can channel our artistic drive. Why do we do things the way we do? What story are we telling? What is our weak or strong points? The answers to these questions help us to know who we are, and who we are not.

Tharp points to a lecture she gave where she invited various art students to assemble on the dais. A music student, a painting student, a writer, a dancer. She asked the art student to describe his impressions of the colors the other students expressed by their improvisation skit. He talked about feelings, himself, stories, no colors. Finally she heard him say one color. Suddenly, she stopped the student to tell him she was unconvinced he wanted to paint. He was in “DNA denial”, he needed to be a writer!

Well, it’s interesting isn’t it? We might be really good at painting, but we’re really wired to dance, or some other thing.

Sometimes I think I’m not a painter, I should really be a chef or a baker. Then I like to assemble jewelry with beads and other things, and think maybe I am a sculptor. I really like the colors of the beads, arranging them in a pleasing manner, and think I’m still a painter who just needs these other things as a distraction. It’s Artist Attention Deficit Disorder. That’s what my resistance is all about.