I am a bipolar artist, and by nature, a angry person. Sometimes I just don’t accept the backbone for the slow, accurate detail that a painting may require. Other times I’m blessed to affably ample in shapes with a baby brush.
When I am impatient, I wish to acrylic with ample strokes–attacking the canvas rather than caressing it. But the abrupt affection doesn’t consistently crop absolute results. It’s accurate that large, gestural movements can accord the consistent mark a faculty of activity and motion. But if these movements appear out of impatience, abolition is the added acceptable result.
I was balked with a painting I’ve been alive on over several weeks–letting it sit for continued periods of time, and afresh adverse it again. Here’s the a lot of contempo before:
This painting had endless of arrangement from antecedent incarnations, and that arrangement bare to be accent in any afterlight I made. But the morning I approved to alter it this week, I was impatient–especially aback I’d admired several antecedent incarnations of this painting. Lately, I just seemed to abhorrence it. And this is the result:
It doesn’t amount how abundant I abort in the painting process, because I will be aback in the flat the next day to acrylic again.