This post doesn't need a long preamble. I've been painting for a
very long time so I'm bound to have learned a thing or two during the
endless hours of staring at paint and canvas.
1. That I do not have ADD.
One of the first things you learn as a painter is that putting paint to canvas requires a great deal of focus. It took Da Vinci four years to paint the Sistine Chapel, and that's relatively short for a master. It takes more time to complete a painting than it takes to do most other things in life. How many times have you worked on a text message for a couple of months?
As a teenager, I was very briefly (and definitely wrongly) diagnosed with ADD. This was based on the fact that I was not turning in my homework and my grades had dropped. Could I handle a long, tedious book? Pshhh, Atlas Shrugged had nothing on me. I read that sh*t on vacation. But homework always seemed to get lost. Probably under drawings and paintings.
2. There is no such thing as perfect.
I had a fantastic mentor growing up. She was a single mom with four kids, ran her own art business, and painted murals all over the place. Seeing her ultra-realistic work inspired me to keep trying even when I was so far off from what I considered ideal. She was tough and that's what I needed. But a lot of the time I was too hard on myself.
Part of the problem was that I expected constant improvement. But when you are learning something, it's natural to hit a plateau. The important thing is to keep trying and to accept your limitations. Sometimes you just can't paint your client and they will keep angrily asking why you've made them look like Wednesday Addams had an unfortunate encounter with an electrical socket. That's what my mentor told me anyhow. Just one reason why I don't paint people.
3. That the creative process follows a predictable trajectory.
First, you have a fantastic idea. It might just revolutionize life as we know it! Eagerly, you embark on a journey. You obtain materials, you make sketches, you plan your future yacht, mansion, and the yacht-mansion, a.k.a. the world's fanciest house boat. Finally you settle down to your project, drooling like an excited puppy going for a car ride.
Guess what: you're bound to run out of the enthusiasm juice soon.
Just about half-way through you start feeling a little slump in your energy. Maybe the materials weren't as shiny and nice as you thought they were at the store. Maybe you are beginning to see problems that could hold you back from the piles of money you thought you were going to make off of your new idea. Suddenly, you feel like the WORST SCUM TO HAVE EVER WALKED GOD'S GREEN EARTH. For whatever reason, this slump happens every single time. The arc goes like this (as said by an unknown internet genius):
1. this is awesome
2. this is tricky
3. this is sh*t
4. I am sh*t
5. this might be OK
6. this is awesome
Try to not maim anyone when the number 4 feelings hit you.
4. Hobbies make you a better person to be around.
I actually learned this from being married. And then promptly getting divorced.
5. You are what you do, not what you think about doing.
For a couple of years I didn't paint anything at all. I was expecting my daughter and trying to finish my bachelor's degree, moving, then recovering from childbirth, and finally, raising my daughter. For a long time I felt like painting was juvenile and "useless." This was a huge waste of time.
One day I decided to bring out my easel and paints and see my daughter's reaction. Surprise: she was thrilled! I painted her a picture of her favorite cartoon character, Totoro. Every morning she points to it and smiles! My point is: painting taught me the importance of making time for what's important to YOU, not just a misguided version of what you think should be important. Chances are your friends and loved ones will be on board and you can even make memories together. So whatever it is that you want to do, go out there and do it, dammit!
Article Source:
http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Luci_Chixaro_Ramos
One of the first things you learn as a painter is that putting paint to canvas requires a great deal of focus. It took Da Vinci four years to paint the Sistine Chapel, and that's relatively short for a master. It takes more time to complete a painting than it takes to do most other things in life. How many times have you worked on a text message for a couple of months?
As a teenager, I was very briefly (and definitely wrongly) diagnosed with ADD. This was based on the fact that I was not turning in my homework and my grades had dropped. Could I handle a long, tedious book? Pshhh, Atlas Shrugged had nothing on me. I read that sh*t on vacation. But homework always seemed to get lost. Probably under drawings and paintings.
2. There is no such thing as perfect.
I had a fantastic mentor growing up. She was a single mom with four kids, ran her own art business, and painted murals all over the place. Seeing her ultra-realistic work inspired me to keep trying even when I was so far off from what I considered ideal. She was tough and that's what I needed. But a lot of the time I was too hard on myself.
Part of the problem was that I expected constant improvement. But when you are learning something, it's natural to hit a plateau. The important thing is to keep trying and to accept your limitations. Sometimes you just can't paint your client and they will keep angrily asking why you've made them look like Wednesday Addams had an unfortunate encounter with an electrical socket. That's what my mentor told me anyhow. Just one reason why I don't paint people.
3. That the creative process follows a predictable trajectory.
First, you have a fantastic idea. It might just revolutionize life as we know it! Eagerly, you embark on a journey. You obtain materials, you make sketches, you plan your future yacht, mansion, and the yacht-mansion, a.k.a. the world's fanciest house boat. Finally you settle down to your project, drooling like an excited puppy going for a car ride.
Guess what: you're bound to run out of the enthusiasm juice soon.
Just about half-way through you start feeling a little slump in your energy. Maybe the materials weren't as shiny and nice as you thought they were at the store. Maybe you are beginning to see problems that could hold you back from the piles of money you thought you were going to make off of your new idea. Suddenly, you feel like the WORST SCUM TO HAVE EVER WALKED GOD'S GREEN EARTH. For whatever reason, this slump happens every single time. The arc goes like this (as said by an unknown internet genius):
1. this is awesome
2. this is tricky
3. this is sh*t
4. I am sh*t
5. this might be OK
6. this is awesome
Try to not maim anyone when the number 4 feelings hit you.
4. Hobbies make you a better person to be around.
I actually learned this from being married. And then promptly getting divorced.
5. You are what you do, not what you think about doing.
For a couple of years I didn't paint anything at all. I was expecting my daughter and trying to finish my bachelor's degree, moving, then recovering from childbirth, and finally, raising my daughter. For a long time I felt like painting was juvenile and "useless." This was a huge waste of time.
One day I decided to bring out my easel and paints and see my daughter's reaction. Surprise: she was thrilled! I painted her a picture of her favorite cartoon character, Totoro. Every morning she points to it and smiles! My point is: painting taught me the importance of making time for what's important to YOU, not just a misguided version of what you think should be important. Chances are your friends and loved ones will be on board and you can even make memories together. So whatever it is that you want to do, go out there and do it, dammit!
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire