Sunday, December 2, 2012
Creative Process Thoughts
Anymore these days, I find it is a series of stories I'm finding within that wants to be expressed. But not any story, they are always stories that I can not tell and when I do tell them, they look nothing like the story to the viewer in which I tell. I know, because I become the viewer. Usually a painting is done when it leaves us but lately ,my stories have been being left incomplete and are open to variants in the retelling or they are open in a continuation of what I think I'm telling, for instance:
It was not until recently that I gained the gratification of telling (now years later) my stories to one with whom a few of my stories was lived out with. Proudly, before them I placed the visuals of my perspective ( by way of a painting ) of our occurrence and happily they could read it! And they added to the telling through further sharing of their life and what had happened since last I saw them. I could see then, the little additives of whimsy I placed in the paintings were not there by mere whimsical chance, no, they were there showing me a psychic link to this person with whom this story I shared with and the painting was not a mere recollection of our experience together but further a living ongoing telling. In the six months I indulged myself with painting this certain story in order to paint this one particular painting that was for me a sharing with the world my secret story... a whole different living part of the story was in the telling and told of a pregnancy and birth of a child, a proud father, a move to a new location and their acquiring of horses.
Before I met my husband, I painted an odd picture of a man cat...a manimal I call it. I asked myself when I saw it, Who is this stranger to me? It is my husbands face in that cat's face. He recognized himself straight away when he saw the painting.