This is probably true of all artists, but I've come to discover that each of my paintings is a direct revelation of my thoughts or where I am at this stage of my life and art. My most recent work seems to show this more clearly than ever.
Last
week I painted every day, and let me
tell you... with an almost 9 month old crawling around everywhere all day, that
is no easy feat! There were some late nights, when I should have gone to bed
sooner but just couldn't tear myself away from the easel. And on the
weekend, my husband was there to entertain Cece while I got some plein
air painting in (and some much-needed connection with other artists!).
Here are some of the results of last week's efforts. All of the pieces you see were done entirely from life.
"Etude" - 20x16" - oil on lead-primed linen
For my high school senior piano recital, I performed Liszt's Etude,"Un Suspiro", a very difficult piece. I was no virtuoso or prodigy, but I played with feeling, enough so that I chose pieces of great drama and passion even if I didn't know how to show these attributes in other areas of my life. In fact, during a short stint of teaching piano lessons during college, the one thing that my students really took away from my instruction was a much better "touch" on the piano. I never lost my passion for music, but my passion for art was greater.
This painting was not created in a day; it actually took about a week of working off and on. By the time it was finished, the roses were long gone. I incorporated "Un Sospiro" in the composition. Since I can barely play it now,12 years past my musical prime, painting it will have to suffice. :-)
"Mommy's Necklace" - 8x6" - oil on linen panel
This was a 35-45 minute sketch done using two mirrors. I'm glad I captured Cecelia's gesture on the first pass, because I couldn't get her back into that pose if I tried!
"Self Portrait in Two Mirrors" - 12x9" - oil on linen panel
I use self portraits to as a gauge to measure my skill level, to experiment with pose and lighting, and to practice when a live model is otherwise unavailable. This piece was a response to seeing William Merritt Chase's 1890 "Portrait of a Lady." I loved the pose and wanted to create something similar. I stayed up way too late working on this (it's about 6 hours of work total), but it was worth the grogginess the next day. :-)
An 8x10 plein air sketch from the first Outdoor Painters Society event of the year on January 24. With no leaves on the trees or spring blooms on the ground, the choices for subject matter were a bit dismal. But I found the shadows to be a wonderful opportunity for interesting design, so they became the subject of my painting.
This is a close-up of a painting still on my easel. I have been trying to get better at painting flowers, as I find them frustrating and elusive. This piece is looking to be more successful than some of my previous attempts, probably because the pale color of the roses is closer to a skin tone than any of the other flowers I've tried to paint!
Motherhood is wonderful, but I've come to the
realization that it has changed me. I am not the same, and never will be. This
isn't necessarily a bad thing. It just IS. A fellow artist, one with more years
and life experience, whom I greatly respect and look up to, noted the change
when she commented on a recent late-night self portrait of mine. Motherhood has
softened me. I'm more transparent now, more open, less guarded. It's probably true.
"Self Portrait on a Saturday" - 10x8" - oil on linen panel
One artist friend commented, "You are staring me right in the eye and showing me that you see yourself radically differently since taking on motherhood." Another said, "I agree. You look much more relaxed and accepting in this painting."
One artist friend commented, "You are staring me right in the eye and showing me that you see yourself radically differently since taking on motherhood." Another said, "I agree. You look much more relaxed and accepting in this painting."
8 months postpartum, my body still
feels broken, while my heart has never been more full. The love wells up and
overflows, until I am completely poured out and eventually, nothing of who I
was before will remain. It is all given for my daughter, that she might have a
rich and joyous life.
Still, I paint, because I must. It was always
my calling to create, whether it be the formation of a two-dimensional image or
another human being. This is my burden and my gift. As I paint, I am exhausted.
Sometimes when I drift into the
creative abyss, I still forget who I am, where I am, that I have a daughter.
There is nothing but the
work. Then when I emerge from the zone, I either feel exhilarated and refreshed
or guilty for loving it so much. In my tiredness, I wipe off more canvases than I keep,
sometimes wondering if I've forgotten everything I know. And then I remember
that I haven't forgotten, just changed. My priorities are different. My
thoughts, motives, everything. The failures happen because I haven't let this "new me" take the brush, and the victories occur when I embrace the sacrifices of
motherhood as part of a new identity. Motherhood has possessed me and changes me still.
God gave women this, for it is both a spiritual awakening and a dying to
self. He gave us this knowing we were strong enough to bear it, so that we
might be molded to His perfect image, and be gifted some insight into the
outpouring of love and blood by His own Son. It's not an easy call, but it is truly rewarding. And so... we carry on! :-)
