April 2 : One of the good ones
For every ten bad studio days there is one good one. Today was a knockout. I blasted out a painting that is way too precious I should probably paint over it, and two that are bad right now but are getting the point across.
Good and so new. I'm not feeling constrained by the figure, but I'm just painting some sort of atmosphere or feeling. They are deep recesses of something, like I'm scraping the sides of a deep cave! And they are somehow related to nature. I hope I can keep this up.
I am curious how other painters "surface" after a studio day. What do you do to get back into the regular movements of life, like moving on to dinner and washing all the dishes and interacting with loved ones? I don't want it to sound like coming off a high but I have a hard time moving seamlessly from studio to home without be irritable, sharp, and discontent. Mentally. I've tried something that helps a little: while I am cleaning up and washing my brushes, I turn on TV episodes. I turn on the Office. It kind of lands me back in the world. What do other people do?
I am almost out of white paint, which freaks me out a little. When will it come if I order it? Will it be on backorder for months? I have some pencils lost in space right now.
YES, I am terrified about the virus. I don't have much else to say about it. I am doing what I know how to do.
I am living in the lives and work of Joan Mitchell and Lee Krasner and Helen Frankenthaler and Grace Hartigan and Elaine de Kooning. I have a giant book on Audible about them and just have it on like the radio during the day. I find it comforting, like I'm a little sister peeking in on their lives. They painted during societal trauma, the Great Depression and World War II and all that came after. That's what they knew how to do.