A composition always has room for improvement, so is it true? “an artist work is never done?” Do we mirror the compositions of our lives according to these mottos that define us? There are instances I find reactions of that nature to be reflexive. In doing so I’ve recently learned that some things, in art and in life cannot be better than that which they are and sometimes imposing evolution can only begin to destroy what virtues already exist. I’ve spent the most part of the past three years crafting a piece that I never meant to be perfect, only functional. As I walk away from something that somehow is enable to be harmonious I smell the stench of burning canvas. carefully I retract my steps in efforts to save all the time I’ve put into this work. Gently, with the softest of brushes I patch and pat this disaster only to find that the material is crumbling beneath me. The moisture from the sweat and tears only make a mucky mess of things. From every view point I cannot conjure up a media that will work as an effective solution.
As an artist, utterly failing at such an epic turning point in my life I begin to lack confidence in my capability to successfully create. With all the principles and prior knowledge, I have come to accept that I will not take a liking to all my works. There is a time to accept what you cannot control and let the flow of life continue with its natural current. I can walk away and let the whole catastrophic disappointment go up in flames along with the easel and everything that encompasses me. Then there I will stand in the smoke of what could’ve been aimlessly wondering about what the future has in store for someone like me. Or I can now spray it with workable fixative and put a title on these ashes and hang it up for all that it is worth. Maybe time will varnish the imagery carved in heavy relief, embedded in my brain. Maybe I will forget the blisters and burns suffered from feeble attempts and muster up the courage to try again. I shall call it love and it will be a reminder of how it left me hanging in the gallows, a cautionary warning to all to be weary of allowing your heart to paint a picture beyond your minds comprehension
. No matter how diligent and meticulous one is when modeling a piece, there is always a chance of disaster and every time it slightly touched the probability is elevated. Every stroke and strike taken must be pondered over and executed precisely. Even then so, maybe your not the right artist to convey such a concept and there is someone better to be commissioned.
My life is as such, something to be modeled and molded, but there are just somethings that don’t come out the way you thought they would. Love for example, is not always perfect and sometimes it can not be fixed. No matter how hard you try and how much you want it, it has to want you too!
