But first, another helpful and non-ironic tip about Hanging In There.
I started this little painting of a woods in Brittany, from memory, for my latest project, That Damn France Book (chapter five). I hate painting from memory, because I paint in as realistic a style as possible and memory (it seems to me) seems better suited for more a interpretive, abstract, surreal style.
But memory is all I have, so I have to make do. I made some pencil marks, sketched in a lane, a horizon, and a few straight lines to indicate trees. Then I slathered on a light wash of watercolor to map out my dark and light areas.
Then I sat back and looked at what I had wrought and I thought Shit. It doesn’t look like a Breton woods at all.
I almost threw it out and ditched the whole idea of trying to paint my memory of this wooded lane that Top Cat and I wandered down right before we got totally lost and stopped talking to each other that day on our honeymoon that we now call “The Walk in the Woods Incident”. But no, I decided to see if I could paint maybe the right hand side (the smaller side) of the path, just for practice, for when I start over and do it correctly later.
And after I painted in the right hand side (above) I looked at it again and thought, Well. I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.
And I proceeded to paint in the left hand side of my Breton woods. From memory. Hmmmmm. I wonder if I was using the right side of my brain for the left side of this painting.
And I ended up not hating it as much as I thought I would.
Ta Da: I hung in there. Because I’m such a hanger-in-there and all.
So Hello everyone, it’s nice to be back. I threw a little tantrum last time we met, pissed off about all the spam I’m getting on my blog and how unfair it is that nobody is making a movie of my life starring Angelina Jolie, but I’m over that now. It’s just that I hate housework so much that I even hate virtual housework: if I have to clean the spam out of my blog and then I have to do the same thing with the copies of that spam that are sent to my email address, all I can process is that I’m CLEANING and ladies and gents: I Do Not Clean. Or, if I do, I want a lot of praise and something nice, like a little present, from the U. S. Treasury, in green, and hundred-dollar denominations.
So I’m back, and if you’re reading this you’re back, and we can continue to meet here on Mondays and Fridays, unless of course one of us gets all moody and Too Good For This Pissant Blog and stomps off again.
But that won’t be me. I don’t think. At least, not today.
And, by the way; I cropped that painting of the Breton woods (above) and it really looks crappy now. Sigh.
Should I have quit while I was ahead? Would it have been so bad if I’d left it half-done? If you were reading a book, say, about travels n France, say, and you came to Chapter Five and saw a half-done picture of a Breton woods, would it have been OK with you? Or do you want a finished picture?