It is when the model and I become aware of the other, as a person, that art begins to come forth . A spoken word echoes through the studio like a call through a canyon. It's just the model asking “is this right?”, that snaps me into the fact another person is here in my space. Till she awakens me with that question, I am in fear of that blank canvas staring at me from the easel. A wash of color gains some control over the canvas. A senseless line here and there, and then colors take on some meaning for me, freeing me from that fear.
Unsureness also drifts away from the model as my arms show signs of me working. The meaningless talk that comes with first stepping into the studio turns to caring conversation as Kim takes to posing, and I to seeing. A shoulder drops ever so slightly and gains importances. Kim's gaze lowers ever so slightly as she describes her boyfriend, which causes me to adjust a color and a shape. A bond builds and brings forth meaning to my painting, turning it from a simple picture to art for me.
Each day I hope I can be the artist I dream of. The skills and the tools are there, it’s just that last little thing that eludes me… Even after years of painting, there is that conversation with myself about simply painting or creating art. I know when I finish a piece, if there was an artist or simply a painter in my studio working. Having others tell me is important, but it's really only if I am amazed at what I've done, that I will know the answer. The answer may not come in a day or a week. Paintings lean against the wall, facing in, for some time before I get up the courage to face them. I may be nearing the finish of a new piece before I face the former finished one. It will express itself as if another had laid those colors to the canvas. When I’ve succeeded, I will ask, “how did this painting come from me?” I see no signs of struggle, no doubts, just the peace it gives me.
