Working on a 24" x 48" landscape. A few more hours of added color and it will be declared finished, according to my standards -- which when compared to the skills of others might be a bit premature. The more I study other artists' applications the more I realize how much wisdom is lacking in my work, especially when it comes to color. Of course, the fact that I'm literally painting in a corner of my living room under a small "day" lamp that tries desperately to mimic the glory of the sun doesn't really help the situation... but even when I move my easel out into the open I still have difficulty knowing which perfect pigments to work together to get the richest shadows, what yellow will create the golden effects of the sunlight, which blues will meet the depths of the sky.
Every now and again I hit the jackpot and actually squeal with delight. Yesterday's moment of triumph was when I came to truly understand
reflections of light and color as I painted the sunset over a canyon wall. The wall came to life when I added the deep blue of the sky into the crevices of the rocks and yellow-orange to the face. Boom. There it was.
And that's the joy of painting, isn't it? The journey from an empty canvas to a conglomeration of color that forms a visual. It's the act of creating something that literally comes to 'life'. I wonder if that's how God felt when He created us...
Unlike God however, I still have some perfecting to do in my work. And with each intent study, each blend of color, each brushstroke, I take one step forward and hopefully upward to that goal of wisdom. And I remain ever grateful to those of you who share your painting experiences. You may not realize it, but you are teachers. Givers of knowledge. Thank you.
