painting and the 9-5 work lifestyle

My most recent start has sat on the easel for quite some time now. I experience artistic highs and lows. Or so I think. Maybe the real reason is that I have to work a 9-5 job to pay the bills and purchase more art supplies. As I peruse through the web, I stumble across artists whose work is oozing out of my keyboard keys. Automatic envy. Then self-doubt. What is wrong with me that I don't have hundreds of canvases stretched and covered in oils? Could it be that I work full time? What a novel idea. But one I have not thought much about. I wake up at 8. At work at 8.30. On a good day I leave work at 5. Most days are more like 5.30. The commute home is never simple. Traffic cops aid in congesting the rush hour streets. Home at 6. What to eat? Clean socks for tomorrow? The cat pan needs to be changed. A few hours later, I am exhausted anxiously awaiting my pillow and soft comforter. To bed I go. Then it is another day.
Maybe it isn't lack of motivation, inspiration, even natural light. Maybe I am just busy.

on the easel

Started this about 2 weeks ago. Still thinking about roses. Spirals. Motion. Some black in there which is rare for me.

Talking about his own highly eclectic, highly protean style, Picasso once said to his mistress Françoise Gilot: “Of course if you note all the different shapes, sizes and colors of models he works from, you can understand his confusion. He doesn’t know what he wants. No wonder his style is so ambiguous. It’s like God’s. God is really only another artist. He invented the giraffe, the elephant and the cat. He has no real style. He just keeps on trying other things. The same with this sculptor. First he works from nature; then he tries abstraction. Finally he winds up lying around caressing his models."

From a recent NYT article reviewing the newest installment in a Picasso biography.

Seurat

MOMA is currently exhibiting Seurat's drawings. The show is up until the new year.

current inspiration

The other night I picked up my pencil and started drawing. First the cabinet across from me. Then parts of my hand. Then a plant on the cabinet. It felt good. It is sometimes difficult for me to just pick up and draw. I envy the freedom that a lot of artists have and I would like to work some of that freedom into my own work.

During my years home-based about twenty minutes outside of Philadelphia, the Philadelphia Museum or Art was a frequent weekend trip. After many visits, the open staircase felt like home as did the galleries on galleries of artwork. Cezanne's bathers were there, splashing it up and catching the shade. My favorite Picasso still life hung in the Cubist gallery for years. Duchamp's early work untouched by Dada and its anti-war, anti-art sentiment. Brancusi's "Bird in Space" lined up next to other soft, organic sculpture. The voluptuous ladies of Renoir - creamy, rosy skin peeking out from plants and flowers.
The piece above hangs in a very central location. In front of it, rows of wooden chairs. A small group of classical musicians seated in front of the painting once, played for the guests seated in front of the dismal scene of Christ and the Madonna.
We all know the scene. Christ, hanging on the cross, lifeless. His mother, overcome with grief and sadness laying, kneeling at his feet. This painting is done as two panels. Could one be shown without the other? Physically it is possible of course. Would there be a purpose in showing them separately? Not in my opinion. The connecting element in this painting or paintings is the fabric of Mary's gown. It works as an arrow, coaxing the viewer as he moves from left to right. It is night but yet there is an incredible light, illuminating the scene. Does it come from above? No shadows are cast. Then there is the wall creating a sense of isolation, abandonment. Mary's head is bowed and Christ's bowed head answers it. Another connection over the two panels.
Is the wind blowing? The scene feels still, quiet, but yet the fabric of Christ's covering is moving with the breeze. The painting is sparse but very powerful, proving that sometimes the most minimal of scenes can convey the greatest emotion and feeling.

what could have been

This painting is stuck. A few weeks ago, I started on it, working from the basil plant and african violet on my window sill. My love of plants grew. Another african violet, mint. . .where does that leave the painting? This has happened before. Not always when working from life. But something or the lack of, prevents a piece from being finished. It is somewhat sad. A premature death. The only option I feel is to begin again, fresh white, new set-up. Mint and all.