Image Credit: Gary Larson
I sit here, not on a Monday, my newly minted posting day, but on a Thursday, writing for my Monday post because I, like the artist above in Gary Larson's hilarious cartoon, am struggling with a brief bout of artist's block. I guess you could say it's similar to writer's block, or in the corporate world, the 3 p.m. lunch hangover. You know what I'm talking about...lunch is over, you're nowhere close to the end of the day, and you sort of wish you could pull a George Costanza and put a mattress under your desk and take a nap for awhile. You WANT to be productive, but you just can't bring yourself to it.
It all started yesterday, when I finished a painting I had just labored through. I mean labored. I picked the photo, the size, the palette, everything, so nothing was forced. Until I started painting it. At first all was good and moving along, but slowly it morphed and then quickly spiraled downward. The brush just didn't flow, I lost patience, forced my way through it, and a week later, I am staring at it thinking how I never want to look at it ever again. If I were the guy in The Far Side cartoon and my painting were the headless cow, I would have painted a chicken head on it.
While I don't especially want to even post the picture above, I think it's only fair to show you at least what I was attempting, when it was about halfway complete. The final product is now hidden away in a dark closet.
So what now? I put down the base layers for two new paintings, but both are still wet and therefore untouchable. I could start another, but I'm stuck. I don't know what I want to move onto and paint next. What do I paint next?! And I could just pick up a brush and just choose something, but I can't bring myself to it. And I don't know why! I just don't feel like it! Argh! Thus, artist's block.
My mom, full of sage advice, suggested I do something that totally refreshes my mind, even if it's a guilty pleasure (in the corporate world, this is called Facebook, or in some cases, Starbucks). Being that I work by my lonesome, I decided that maybe I would take a little time and sit outside, since I love summer and sunshine. It was great. That is, until a massive yellow jacket saw me. I am pretty convinced that most yellow jackets recognize humans as "those things that drink soda," and then wait for the opportunity to crawl into the can undetected, unbeknownst to said human. Being that I don't really drink soda, we had a standoff for a couple minutes. I thought I was fine, until I looked down at my seat and realized that a fuzzy spider had decided to make his webby home on the arm of the chair. He was all curled up, and I could tell he was as bothered at my presence as I was at his, given that we had invaded each others rightful space.
With that I decided to go ahead inside, and channeling my inner Abraham Lincoln (known for his "hot letters," emotional notes addressed to those he was upset with that he would never send), decided to put words to my frustration with my canvas. I think when I started painting full-time, I assumed I would be constantly nose-to-canvas, hand-to-brush, no room for a tired mind or body, or creating anything less than a masterpiece. Now I realize that it's not quite like that all the time, and that's okay, and part of the process.
And when all else fails, make a hot letter. Indoors, of course.
Artist friends, do you get artist's block?! And to the rest, what gets you blocked sometimes?!
