Blur or Not to Blur

My painting style has always been about sharp lines. I’ve never cared for paintings in the impressionism style. And yet, lately, I am liking some aspects of what I usually call “blurry.”

Perhaps this all stems from my lack of traditional art training. I’ve always been one to find my own way. It’s about the journey, the trial and error, the self-discovery and not doing exactly as others do it. This is what excites me about painting – and, of course, sharing the beauty.

This “blurry” topic is, for me, experimenting with balance. I need to decide for myself which areas need softer edges. After all, I’m not a photo realist, so it doesn’t matter if I don’t have the lines exact. As a matter of fact, I don’t even do an initial layout exactly like the photo. I tend to move, delete, or add trees, rocks, bushes, etc.

I’ll study the photo, but the minute I pick up a pastel, my hand just starts moving, almost seemingly on its own. I usually call this, “the painting helping to paint itself.” It’s like my logical brain snoozes and something else takes over – not for long but a few minutes at a time.

Part of me is thinking about what I’m doing, but another part of me can’t help what my hand is doing. I go back and forth between moments of just intuitive doing and then putting more logical thought into it. It’s an interesting process which I find intriguing.

Today, I couldn't leave "A Glorious Dawn" alone and after making some adjustments, I went back in the studio, hated the change I made earlier and spent 45 minutes trying to fix it. I wiped off and covered up the orangey color I’d added to the water earlier. That meant I had a lot of repair work to do. 

I worked and worked. I tried to get the water right, add movement, etc. I am not happy.

I am sooo disappointed in myself. A lesson in leaving it alone when I feel done. I feel sick to my stomach. I loved this painting yesterday. Now I want to cry.