Morning Exercises [Resting Point]

Today I came to a good resting point on my canvas. I even named it "Water Marks". I will leave it be for a while, live with it in my apartment and decide how to proceed after spending some time with it in the background.

Morning Painting Exercise [Three]

I am still going strong on the morning exercises. Today I woke up at 6:00am (groggy, yes, but less than I was yesterday). I showered, ate a pretty little bowl of blueberries, brewed my favorite cinnamon tea, and put on my Spotify playlist: Stratosphere [Painting Flow].

Instead of jumping right into action (which I usually do without much thought), I studied the canvas, sipping my tea. I reached for something rather different today: graphite pencils. For some reason it felt right to lay down neutral-colored, sharp yet fluid lines onto the composition. I spent a significant amount of time playing this way, bonding with my graphite, feeling as though I had made some great discovery. Even though it is the most basic of tools, there is something alluring about graphite line atop canvas and amidst paint in its undefined form.

I felt inclined to cover the orange and yellow area in the center, taken by an enveloping whim to bring out complex greys, blues, purples, and turquoises, while masking the almost-insincere oranges and yellows that seemed to be imposters this morning. In general, I rotate the composition every 15 minutes or so, to change up the look. This is both exciting and challenging for me.

One of the difficulties of abstract painting is that there are no boundaries--no guidelines and no definitive end. I think of abstraction a bit like I do life: complex, fun, open-ended, with no direction until you create it, mysterious, beautiful, thrilling, curious. 

A lot of people roll their eyes at abstract artwork saying: "my child could do that" or "a three year old could do that". Perhaps they are correct, but I don't care. Abstract painting is an expression of the soul, and no matter how it looks in the end, it is worth something. Out of all of the art forms, abstraction challenges my mind and psyche the most. Painting this way allows me to get deep into the crevices of my innermost desires, questions, and expressions. To me, abstraction is the dancing of painting.

Here is an image from my third morning of exercises. I stopped almost exactly after an hour, realizing that I had reached a good ending point for the morning. Usually, I am inclined to work in a fury until I can call something "finished." 

This painting is not yet finished. I want to take my time with it. I will know once it is done.

Day Three

Morning Painting Exercise [Two]

It was my second morning doing painting exercises. See the last blog post Soul Exercises for more information on my positive motivation. 

This morning I awoke at 5:50am. It was tough; I did it anyhow. By the time I got set up, I only had about a half hour to paint, because I had also scheduled a session at the gym to work out. Even so, that half hour was truly enjoyable and eased me into my day and my work out. 

This morning for my exercise parameter, I used only one paintbrush and one color (at first). The initial color that I reached for was yellow. After getting warmed up, I introduced the lilac tone, mixing a violet-based blue with white. I then incorporated more white and magenta tones into the mix, and finally ended up including the bright green that is visible throughout the painting.

Day two on the canvas

Even though I only had half an hour to paint, it was worth waking up for. I also came to a good stopping point for the day, and I look forward to adding to the canvas tomorrow and seeing what my dream hangover brings to the canvas.

My palette and paints

Soul Exercises

The next few blog posts will be focused on my hour-long painting exercises. I am making the time to get up in the early morning, when my mind is like a sponge after sleep--fresh, unaffected, and raw--to do one-hour canvas-to-brush sessions. The reason I say exercise is because I think that sometimes the concept of "working" on a canvas can put too much pressure on the activity and block discoveries from taking place. The less precious the work is, the more experimentation that can take place. To achieve progress, one has to be unafraid of messing up; the more fragile and perfect the work seems, the less likely one is to take the necessary risks to change it. The exercises that I am participating in are meant to be freeing, awakening, and without pressure.

My intention is to paint for an hour (giving ample time not to rush to work), to sip espresso (and not to take it like a shot), to have a breakfast, to listen to music that fills my soul, and to repeat until my canvas is finished. What beauty, emotion, or pent-up energy will come out of my mind and body after sleep--after dreams? Who or what am I thinking of during those first twenty minutes? How do I express that?

I do not believe that creating art is a mystery. All that is necessary is a blank canvas or paper, some basic paint tubes, a brush, a jug of water, and the will to let go and make mistakes. You are an innately creative being. If you are thinking of painting, maybe approach it like a little bit of exercise for your mind, body, and soul. Don't worry too much about whether or not it feels comfortable. It takes time to get in shape. Pretty soon you will be flexing your muscles and adding on an extra mile.

Below is an image of my first hour-long exercise for this canvas. More to follow this week.