I've took a hiatus from painting that was longer than I care to admit. One day it was because I was too busy and the next I was uninspired and here I am months later having created not even one piece of art unless you count the framed quote I made for my room last week that took only typing and printing (but it's still wonderfully fantastic. See pic). But basically I've come up with every excuse for why I couldn't and wouldn't paint. But when it really came down to it, the need wasn't there. I didn't have that ache in my chest that pushed me to grab a brush and create something like I had in the past.
But then, I met someone and they asked me what I do. I said, among other things, I'm a writer and an artist. But wait. Am I? I haven't picked up a brush in months. I wasn't creating art. How could I define myself as an artist if by definition I wasn't.
So. Here I am. Today I picked up a brush and decided I'd force myself to create. If the zest wasn't there, I'd simply fake it. The thought of doing my normal style overwhelmed me though. From the start- drawing a lifelike figure with detailed eyes and perfectly positioned ears and ugh, even teeth. (painting teeth is the devil, btw). So, I told myself this time I'd paint more free. No rules. No need for realistic proportions or teeny tiny brushes for detailed irises and eyebrows. I grabbed a larger brush than normal and outlined a figure - shoulders, neck, and jaw and from there I let myself go. And god it felt good. The outcome isn't what I imagined and I'm pleased with that. It really was never about the piece only that I actually MADE it. I got my creative juices flowing and I'm back in the game. Here's to many more paint stained pants, colorful canvases, and nonexistent hiatuses.
Check out a bit of my process below.