”Woman”. Oil on canvas. I finished her in 30 minutes after wiping of the canvas totally with a rag. The face I had worked on for a whole day just bothered me. Bam! Just get rid off it and start again. And there she was.
Trusting myself, trusting the process and taking it all the way to the very end. That is a challenge.
There is even a movement called Process Art that is associated with the 1960s. It is the journey or the process that is art. It doesn’t even have to have an object to show as a finished result. I remember reading about an artist who made his own walking into a project of art. Clever.
Nonetheless, even regular classic painting involves a process. It doesn’t even have to be that creative. But one thing I found certain with my own painting, I need the time, the process to let go. To let go of the judging thoughts, the critic inside and the assumptions of what the end result should look like. It is like I have to get the painting into my body, and I get the feel of where to put the paint, where to not put the paint and the painting is finding its own way to an objet d’art. I am just tagging along. That is such a fun feeling. And somewhat time-consuming.