Pre-Mature Labor

Written last night during an artist's rant...

Tonight my hands misinterpreted what my mind had seen.  Visions of how I want to be seen, painted the way I wanted to feel, but with each stroke of the brush, all I feel is frustration and disgust.   The vision in my head is so wonderful, so beautiful but the translation, the bridge between vision and motion, is not connecting.  This is the first time in a very long time that I have experienced this much affliction and distress. 

I spent much of the night before feeling remarkably refreshed and clear when I unwrapped the fresh canvas with brushes and acrylics fired up and ready for use.  I typically do not begin a painting so late in the evening but the inspiration was uncontainable.  As per usual, I sketched my image and painted my background.  I was on the road to something amazing.  By the time 3:30 am rolled around, my eyes became heavy and the thought of getting up in 3 hours was becoming increasingly distracting.  I found a good stopping point and went to bed. 

Glancing at the pictures I took the night before of my work in progress, my excitement continued to build and courted me, like puppy love.  I could not wait to get home, get my kids fed, and get my evening ritual and routine out of the way so I could pick up right where I left off.  Numerous interruptions from my children resisting sleep preoccupied my flow.  Soon after, the madness began.  The children were finally asleep but my inner demons were wide awake.   Although some would find my creation a work of beauty, the toughest critic is that of the artist.  When one color, one stroke or shape is not precisely executed on that canvas as it was seen originally through the inspired artist’s eye, the piece becomes unworkable.  The painting shifts from something moldable and fluid to a solidified disaster, unsalvageable.  The only saving grace for this once inspired great work of art is gesso, gesso and a new day.  The only way to stop the insanity, is to know when to say when.  Walk away and start over another day.  I have to constantly remind myself that I am learning something through this process.  Although I have not yet figured out what the deeper lesson and gift was in this experience, I do know that my long term vision for this painting will still be amazing if I choose to continue.  A new day will give way to a fresh start and a new beginning.  The pictures that I took tonight will be a reminder of my journey and the keys to unlocking those aspects of myself that I still continue to heal through my art.  I will walk cautiously and gently as I re-begin this piece of art.  I like to think of it as premature labor, with pains so intense with no results.  It is always work, premature labor or the real thing, but one thing with labor remains the same, the birth of something amazing…..And so this is what I will hold on to.