Monday, July 17, 2017

Today (In My Little Room)

I have been trying to beat the clock all weekend. I came across a Call for Submissions for a show at a place that I love and I decided I should at least attempt to apply. I won't go into details about where and when this is unless I actually get chosen for the exhibit (it's a long long long shot), but I will say that it's a location that is very near and dear to my heart and very close to where my sister lived for many years. It's by the sea. It's a beautiful town...

So the deadline for submissions is tonight and I knew I'd be taking on a lot by trying to complete the paintings I currently have in progress in hopes of submitting them. Of course, these are my latest works and they are the only ones I feel might be good enough to compete in the jury process. So I've been working for hours and hours, days and days. However, I am nowhere near finished and as the minutes pass by and my eyes and arm get heavier and heavier I am starting to realize this is probably not going to work out. It makes no sense for me to be writing about painting instead of actually painting since the deadline is looming, but I can't seem to force myself to do anything but work in this way. I can get lost in my work for hours but then there comes a point where my brain and my body has nothing left to say for a while. I can't seem to force myself past that point... I have to think about my next step for a while before I know what to do.

About the work: The two paintings I want to submit are of the heavens above and the sea below. These unknown aspects of the natural world fascinate and perplex me and so, my intention was to try to capture something mysterious about each realm. Humpback whales just passing through and the interstellar matter of the cosmos, in whatever spectrum... Where are the whales going? What exactly is in that gaseous cloud? I don't know. And neither do you.

I still have six hours left. Maybe I'll take a bit of a rest and then maybe I'll try one last attempt.

In other news:

My latest studio space overlooks Courtney Bay here in Saint John and I can sit at my desk and watch the tides roll in and out. This view fills me with gleeful joy that I can't even explain. Seagulls fly past my window from time to time and even amid the noise of industry, I can still hear birds sing. Life is good. This is probably my favourite space I've ever had. So, even if I don't get to submit these paintings, having to spend time in this room isn't exactly torture. Something even better may come up if I can't finish them in time. That's one thing I know for sure. This space reminds me of the times I would visit my Gram when she lived in Back Bay and I think of her every time I smell the ocean air.

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