The piece above is called Desert Dreams by Pary Darian (his website is dripping with gorgeous art), and I find it impossibly dreamy. So dreamy, I ordered a big ass sticker of it from Redbubble and put it on the front of my PS4 Pro. It’s aesthetic as hell.
I adore art; it inspires me, it soothes me, and it intrigues me.
Recently, I’ve been feeling the urge to paint again in a big way. If I can get myself to the art store, I’m going to make it happen.
Wednesdays are my days to get things done. I’ve had these realistic looking fake plants (three of them) sitting on the kitchen counter for months, just waiting for the pots to be painted. I had picked out a lovely art deco pink and, yesterday, I decided to finally paint them.
They don’t look good. I mean, they don’t look good at all. I’m sure I can figure something out to rehabilitate them, but, right now, they look pretty bad.
To be fair, I’ve never painted pots before. Even so, I blew it.
My partner looked at them and he said something to the effect of: “I like that you take chances on art.”
I thought a lot about that.
I do take chances on the art I create, no matter the medium. I mean, let’s be real here: I’m not an artist like the artist above. I’m not a “real” artist. I love creating and I love colors and I like to put those in motion on a canvas, but I’d never consider myself a real artist.
Even so, I love creating.
In 2009 I found out about an elaborate art store relatively close by. My partner and I make a trek there and HOLY CRAP. It was a wonderland. The best part? They carry the canvases I prefer, and I stocked up on them.
While we were there, I saw what can only be described as a big ass canvas.
I wanted that big ass canvas.
It was around 5 feet by 7 feet (yes, you read that right). I knew immediately what I wanted to paint on it: a beautiful aqua background with wavy lines to represent seaweed or thin trees. I bought the paint. I bought the brushes. The canvas was so big we had to call a friend with a van to help us get it home (thank you, John!). That weekend, I was ready to tackle it.
The largest canvases I usually paint are around 3 feet by 4 feet. I’m used to how the paint dries and how long I have to manipulate it once it’s on the canvas. I use mixing mediums to achieve different finishes and textures. But I’d never had experience with such a large surface and I didn’t account for how the paint would dry before I was able to mess with it.
I got about halfway through painting the background and realized something else: I usually paint with the canvas flat on the floor; this canvas was too big for that.
To make an exceedingly long story short, I blew it. It turned out horribly. I had wasted the money on the canvas, the paints, and the various other supplies. I was really upset at myself.
I hauled it out to the dumpster and broke it apart. It felt cathartic.
I didn’t paint anything for a long stretch after that. I felt wasteful.
Of course, years later, I realized at least I’d tried. It could have been great, it just wasn’t.
When my partner reminded me yesterday that at least I was taking chances on something artistic, it resonated with me. Even if it was only painting pots, I’m glad I tried. I’ve tried some things and been pleasantly surprised. I’ve tried other things and been disappointed.
But at least I’ve tried.
I’m grateful for that.
I’m more ready than ever to paint some new canvases. I have so many exciting (to me) color schemes I’m ready to see come to life; I just need to get to the art store.
Canvases, here I come.
Do you like to create art of any kind? If so, what? Please share; I’d love to hear about it!