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.
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