Taste of Creation

There is something magical that begins with a blank canvas. An idea comes. For me, it lately tends to involve beaches and palm trees primarily. A sketch alters the whiteness, guiding lines for the finished product. I often stop there. For long periods of time. I put the sketch aside lazy about pulling out the art box, and setting things up for what is always something rather messy, the way I do it. I have to be in the mood.

And then, one weekend or holiday afternoon, as this one in progress, I am in the mood.

I love the feel of oil and the look of the blending colors. At first, as I apply the paint, I am not certain I am going to like what I see, no, it is something else. What I think I am going to do is not what actually, happens. There is a little otherworldliness to it. My hand. My brush stroke. But it is as if something appears that was meant to appear, whether or not that is ultimately pleasing to every eye that comes across it.

I am reminded of Michaelangelo's description of sculpting marble. The figure was within the block and all he did was to reveal it. Of course, what is revealed by my hand is not necessarily a masterpiece as it was with him or any number of artists. Not only perhaps is the picture revealed but something of my being. I have been surprised, for example, by the fact that my paintings tend to be very colorful. Bright. One might opine from this that I am a happy character all the time. And yet, inside, there is more gray than bright color. Or gray with splashes of color, to be more accurate.

And then, it is done. A completed covered canvas. In an odd way, it almost seems as if I did not do it, and I see things in the finished product that I did not necessarily intend to be there, but which please me. A surprising shadow that makes the painted cloud truly seem to move. A perfectly poised leaf on a tree. I did not make it so. But yet it is so. Out of nothing, something wonderful, new and part of the world.