Wednesday, 26 February 2014

Painting my True Self



I am a very analytical person.  My mind mulls over things and examines and questions and wants to know why.  Like that small child who asks 'why is the sky blue?'  I need to know the answers but I am never satisfied with an answer.  I question it.  I want to know for certain if that is the best answer.  Some people think this is some sort of personal torture I inflict on myself but this is just me.  This is how my brain works and I don't know any other way.  Please don't worry about me.  I'm fine.  If you are a close friend, I'm afraid you are going to hear me verbalise all that analysing.  Sorry about that.  If you really love me you will cope.  That's my test of true friendship.

Yes, I am a worrier.  I will worry myself in circles.  I will worry that if I tell you how much worrying I do you will think I am crazy.  I am still compelled to tell you.  There is so much going on in my brain I have to open the release valve once in awhile.  You will be horrified by how much comes out and even more so if I tell you that was only half of it.  But truly, I'm fine.  Don't tell me this is bad for me or that I worry too much or that I need to get out of my own head.  What I will hear is that you think I am defective.  I will hear criticism of my essential self and I'm going to have to analyse that.

Sometimes I meditate.  I write in a journal. Actually I have journals all over the place so I can hardly say I write in A journal.  I write in about seven.  And then there are the art journals.  Painting has become my most favourite form of meditation.  My best way to lose myself, express myself and not analyse anything for at least a short period of time.  Yes, sometimes I paint things that are carefully planned, or I draw portraits and the goal is for it to at least vaguely resemble the person who inspired it.  But one of my favourite things to do is to just start slapping the paint on the canvas and see what I get.

I love colour.  Colour matters to me and means so much to me.  I am moved by colour combinations.  I can alter my own mood simply by taking a paintbrush and covering a canvas or a page with a colour I love.  So I gave myself permission to do that, to paint for the sake of the colours and not to worry about the image.  No worries about if it is good enough or if anyone would like it.   No worries about if it looks like what it is "supposed" to look like.  I paint big and fast.  Sometimes I use watercolour on paper but I love acrylic on canvas because I can do so much layering.  I can also completely cover over a painted canvas and start again.  This gives me so much freedom.  For a worrier, someone who wants to get things "right", the acrylic paints on canvas completely free me of that worry.  If I have put a blog of white somewhere and instantly don't want it there I can change instantly.  Sometimes, because I work fast, I even "ruin" something I liked.  That is perhaps where the greatest lessons happen.

This is my current work in progress.  It is a work in progress just like I am.  I am not sure where it is going and I know it won't be perfect but it makes me happy.  I like it for what it is and it doesn't have to be 'right'.




9 comments:

  1. That's an interesting thing - that when it comes to painting, there are no worries. For a self-confessed worrier, that's a breakthrough, surely? Sorry, "self-confessed" sounds like worrying is an inherently bad thing... I'm not sure whether it is, it depends.
    Endless fearful and self-critical ruminating, that probably doesn't help anyone to feel good. But thoughtful analysis and a pursuit of understanding of self and others; surely that's OK? Perhaps these are two sides of the same coin.
    Having some space where we can just do or be without self-consciousness is good too, and it sounds as though your art, journals and meditating provide that for you.
    I like your painting. Wonderful use of colours and bold organic shapes. xxx

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    1. I would think my worrying ranges on the spectrum from perfectly normal to unhelpful. The trick is noticing when it's unhelpful and being able to deal with that. I think you are right about the coin. Now, I'm off to slap on some more paint. Thanks for stopping by and leaving your usual thoughtful comments.
      xo

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  2. Hi Shawna, your work in progress looks pretty all 'right' to me.

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    1. Thank you Northern mum. And thanks for stopping by!

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  3. coming from an "art corner" i´m impressed. by the free use of color and the strength behind. there seems to be no fear. but - in the drawing of the flowers i feel a reluctance to that keeps its shape strangely abstract, as if you had no wish to paint flowers ........
    kitchen table psychology. sorry. and its hard to find the right sound in an foreign language. I also not wanted to raise any uneasy memories or offend you with the justification of my insistence on my mother tongue. Never.
    ...this must be a sign! at this moment a ladybird is crawling over my keybord! in february. the little ones hibernate in the corners of my house, there is one, probably woke up. :-)
    dont wonder where your last comment is gone, i keep it in the private section.

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    1. You are such a sweetheart. Actually I paint flowers all the time. I had a friend tell me I paint too many flowers and he wanted me to get darker. He challenged me to paint a bowl of fruit with a skull in it. So I did. But then I went back to painting flowers. Perhaps what you sense in that painting is my thinking oh damn here I go painting flowers again. LOL
      Don't worry about offending me. I am not offended at all, nor am I easily offended. You should write in your mother tongue. It is only that I want to know everything you have said that I was hoping for an easy translation solution.
      xo

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  4. LOVE your work in progress ... waiting in anticipation to see how it evolves.

    Worry goes along with life and whether we worry too much or too little (who is the worry police who are monitoring us anyways) has nothing to do with anyone except the worrier.

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    1. Thanks Lynn! In an odd way, worrying probably helps me to feel that I am on top of things. My dad is a worrier. I will blame it on his genes. ;-)

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  5. My mom is a worrier, and my dad is rather very philosophical. I get both. I worry too, sometimes too much. But I am rather a highly intuitive person. So I also let go. I sometimes just "know" things without analyzing, learning and thinking about them. Very often, I think that everyone knows them too, and I am so surprised to learn that they don't. I think we all have this feeling sometimes that we are strange to others. I am definitely a weirdo! :) But I am true to myself, and that's what matters.
    I love your paintings! Don't force yourself to paint sculls, please. Just paint what you want to paint.
    I also write in a few journals at a time!

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