I got out a failed painting today and was preparing to paint over it. BUT… I put it on the easel and looked at it.
“Hmm. I think I understand you, failed painting. You’re not failed. You’re just different. Maybe you’re the future.”
“Could be,” said the painting. “Thanks for not painting over me.”
“No, thank you.”
“You see what’s missing.”
“I think so, but whatever. We don’t have anything to lose.” I squirted a minuscule amount of Cerulean blue paint on the lid of an empty yogurt container. A tiny bit of white. Got what seemed to be the appropriate brush. Did the thing — put light on the water. It is a WETLANDS after all. Then I put light in the sky. Then I needed magic in the sky and I opened the tube of magic, and as I did, I felt like weeping. “I missed you so much!” I put some on the yogurt lid but I didn’t put the brush into it. I put my finger in it and did work with my finger. I love that paint so much, I wanted to touch it. I didn’t even want a 6 inch brush handle between my paint-covered finger and the painting’s surface.
It felt so good and smelled so good. Linseed oil and lapis ultramarine, that miracle color. “I need gray.”
“I’ll be that for you.”
“I think I love you.”
“You’re not the first one.”
“No, I know that.” I thought of how in the so-called Renaissance this color was used to paint Heaven above the Virgin Mary in frescoes (really rich patrons) and I thought, “Well, this is Heaven,” as I finished a stormy sky out at the Refuge. I decided to liberate myself from “getting this right” because I don’t know what “right” is right now. I’m heading into terra incognita with my lapis ultramarine blue. What a marvelous vessel, and I trust it.
I also see now what’s wrong with the painting. It’s a painting of wind. The storm cloud should not be in the center. OH well. As they say; paint and learn.
I tried so hard to describe it to my friend, a painter who is now blind, BUT he has it in his mind that the lapis ultramarine would be even MORE intense than the synthetic. It isn’t. I wouldn’t even call them the same color. Lapis ultramarine is transparent, grayish, magical, cooperative. It doesn’t insist on anything. I wish so much I could paint with it on plaster, but I don’t see that happening. The closest I can get is the gessobord. SO…I bought another one with the remainder of my Christmas money. We’ll see where it takes me.
You can kind of see what I mean in this paint chart from the Natural Pigments company. “lazurite” is their lapis ultramarine. The chart shows the paint in the tube and then tinted (with white). It’s become very hard to get now because of the chaos in Afghanistan. Mine is from Argentina. I was ready to spend my whole Christmas present ($100) on a tube of lapis ultramarine from Afghanistan, but… Maybe someday.
24 thoughts on “In Good News”
I can see the approaching storm and almost feel the wind picking up. X
That’s what was going on. It blew right over me. The rain all fell in the sky. ❤
There’s a name for clouds that drop rain but it evaporates before it lands… Can’t remember what they are called…
We call it virga. I love seeing it but I’d REALLY like to see some rain. Today winds are gusting at 120 kmh here and the dust is flying. No end in sight, either. 😦
Yes, just looked it up. I’ve seen those clouds here too. I’m going to put a post about it on my page x
glad you were drawn to painting again in a very organic way
Thank you! Me too. It’s the best day I’ve had in a while. We just never know…
Wow! Love that scene. 🙂
Thank you! Home Sweet Home ❤
I love it and that storm cloud looks good centered. My mind sort of added a man with a staff and a wind swept cape. No ark though.
Unlike a real cloud it’s not going anywhere. 😊
The unfinished paintings tell us what else they would like to have to feel good. This is a difficult part as the painter has to step back from his ego and listen with patience. Unfinished pictures can sometimes be stubborn like little kids.
I wonder if the unfinished painting is thinking, “That artist is as stubborn as a little kid.” 🙂 Maybe when I put it away last year it thought, “She’ll be back. Maybe then she’ll see.”
ha ha, yes paintings can have a tricky nature.
It’s easy to forget they’re alive…
right now it’s also easy for me to forget that I am alive….
Ha ha ha ha. You are. It’s OK. Check with me any time you’re in doubt.
I’m giddy with excitement that you are painting again!! I bet that finger painting was a sensual experience and fun and… the next one you do will be so enjoyable!!
I just love that color/paint. Plus, it’s sensitive to temperature and humidity. It really needed the warmth of my finger to move.
Well, I don’t know about pigments, paint or composition, but your sky looks wonderful to me. It’s full of life and movement. I can almost feel the wind on my face. We’re always our own worst critics, but take it from me, it’s a great painting. 🙂
❤ Alli. That's the whole point! Not pigments or composition (I just do love that one pigment. It's a miracle.)
Looks amazing to me. 🙂
[…] your head about painting right now. Just close the door for a while.” When I pulled out the “failed painting” of the storm cloud and saw it wasn’t a failed painting I thought, “OK, there’s somewhere new to go […]
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