I am a huge perfectionist, especially when it comes to my art. I'm extremely critical about my work. I see faults where other people see beauty. I castigate my work when others praise it. But I am finally learning to let go. I haven't worked on a proper canvas in years, because I always felt my work was not good enough to be on a professional canvas, it belonged in a book in my cupboard, said my head.
Last week I wasn't feeling good about things, among other things I was unhappy about not painting enough, I mean
properly painting enough. Then I said to myself,
why am I sitting here feeling sad about not painting when I have paints and a canvas in the next room? so before I could talk myself out of it I ran next door, grabbed every art supply I owned, threw them on the floor of my living room and I painted. With a bottle of wine at hand, and loud music on to drown out those scornful voices in my head telling me I couldn't do it, I painted with an open heart.
I didn't have a clear idea of what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go with it, but I was painting, and instead of the usual perfectionist tendencies I adopt when working on my art I allowed myself to let go and just paint, and without letting the paint dry I painted some more. I can't explain the emotion that went into this painting, it was an emotional night, and that's why, even though I woke up in the morning and immediately picked out things I wanted to change and work on, I decided to leave this painting as it is, perfectly imperfect, because this painting is the product of my raw emotion, and I hope that this emotion comes through in the painting. Because to me that's what art is all about, stirring emotion within people.
