A Flower, a Bottle and an Onion

OOOMMMMGGGG!   For years I have been intimidated.   Have you ever felt that way?   Then suddenly something happens leaving you wondering why you felt that way in the first place. Well, if you have read some of my early blogs, you will immediately understand why I struggle with the fraud syndrome and unreasonable intimidation by things…not so much people.  I have very little reserve when it comes to people.  I could probably kick you in the shin without much provocation.  But things will drive me into a closet. What kind of things you ask – well one would be oil painting.  My art is basically free drawing – paper, #2 pencil.  Recently (3 years), I got into the alcohol inks quite heavily.  Digital art (6 years) without a hitch – you would think digital art would be intimidating, right? No, not for me.  What I found intimidating were the oils and the water colors.  I would buy tubes of paint and brushes just to look at them.   Weird?  What was I thinking – would those paints miraculously jump out of the tubes and onto a canvas like a Disney movie?

So, because I joined an artist work group that met every Friday, I was forced to come face to face with a tube of burnt umber.   Our group leader arrange to have a oil painter stop by and introduce us the fine art of oil painting.   I thought I was going to be sick and hurl right there in the studio.   All of our places were set with a small easel, a canvas board, turp, rags, and brushes. Surely they were not expecting us to paint?  Well, this lovely woman began a short intro speech about oil painting, showed a book with different techniques,  and then she started to paint.  She “scrubbed” some umber on to the canvas board very very thinly.  Then with the same brush, she outlined the subject she had arranged in light box.  Then it happened.  She made an error in the composition.   NOW, thought I, the tears and gnashing of teeth would start.   Surely you cannot correct errors in oil. Well, she took that tiny piece of cloth, dipped it into the turpentine and corrected her error.   How freaking easy!   She corrected her error and continued to paint…
Then it was our turn. With a shaking hand, and a tight stomach (I hate to be watched) I did just what she did…I was painting with oil.   ME!   I finished the task at hand, stepped back and looked at what I made.   Could not believe it.  I have it propped up in my family room where I can see it.   I look at it frequently, still amazed at what I made.   Even after 24 hours of its birth, I am still trying to figure out why I was so intimidated by the thought of painting in oils.
I have learned two thing about this adventure into the oils ( maybe more, but these are the most evident!)  –  I will never be intimidated by art again;  the second is that I now need to budget my art dollar better so I can buy an easel, paints, turpentine, rags, and brushes.   Sweet Baby Moses is that stuff expensive on the start up side.   Well, let me know what you think about my little painting.  Don’t  worry – I promise not to kick you in the shin!

Gerry

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