I came across an email that I sent to a friend a few year back and it made me think about the inner struggles that I don't believe are unique to me. As a matter of fact, I don't think it is unique to an artist, but more a human tendency to self-doubt or be our own worst and most difficult critic.
I thought I'd share the message here:
"I can relate to the personal inner struggle that your large blank canvas brought about. Those same emotions came to me this past spring when I was staring down a 4' canvas that I purchased and loved. I knew the instant I saw it what I wanted to paint...like a beacon of light, the idea and image came to me and yet, every time I walked past the canvas at home...it seemed to be screaming, "na na na na na! You can't paint me!" And I didn't. As the weeks went on, I became afraid of the taunting accusations that canvas was spitting out at me. Before long, I moved it to the closet so as to avoid the turmoil it caused me. But, the painting I was walking around with in my head kept shining...and one day...I just pulled it out and trusted that it would come...just as it should! Don't get me wrong, it was a process. I think taking on a "big canvas" is all about letting go as an artist and as a person....because there it is....AS BIG AS LIFE....Staring you down...flaws and imperfections right up front for all the world to see!
But, here's what happened to me. Suddenly, I could see those flaws and
inadequacies that I was so afraid of baring to the world and they didn't look
so bad. At that point, a freedom came
over me...in more than just the sense of an artist (or in my case a dabbler in
art) ...I came a bit unraveled as a person!
I saw truths about myself...truths that were worrisome, but I was able
to slap them up on the canvas and paint the reality and color of them for all
to see. The painting that came out of
that experience has so many flaws...and it took on a life of its own....No, it
took on a representation of the life I call "my own."...and I FELT
something connect between me and the canvas.
I felt a sizzle at the end of my paint brush...a connectivity and
oneness from me to the canvas. Somehow
that large canvas was sucking something out of me that I had been unable to tap
into before. But there it was....and in
the end, I had a piece that really felt like a piece of my soul.
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