Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Yesterday I spent some time with David and Diana working on painting. I decided to try watercolor for the first time in ages. Here is the result and I am very pleased with it. I am so sick of looking at my acrylics and oils that I could puke. Even though I do a competent job with them, they are so similar to a hundred other people's paintings that I feel they are uninteresting and lack individual style. My watercolors have always seemed unique, though they certainly have the look of the Cape Ann atrists I admire and learned from. When I see my watercolors next to the "typical" watercolors done by the thousands, they look different. For the moment that is enough to satisfy me, even though the content is lacking in originality. If I can take an ordinary subject and portray it in a way that no one else has, that is something I can feel good about it. This painting is from one of the photographs I took when I was with Thelma earlier this year at Schoodic Point. I talked with Thelma the other day, and listening to her inspired me to try watercolor again. I wish she were nearer to me so that I could indulge in the kind of art talk we always have more often. Somehow, with her I never question what I'm doing. The world of painting is clear to me. The standards are agreed upon and striven for, the paintings judged according to rules we have set for ourselves. It is all clean and understandable. It is right. I miss the clarity with which I am able to think and produce paintings when I am with her, and with Betty Lou. What a great lack it is in my life not to have that anymore.