That Awkward Teenage Phase

Gangley arms.

Feet too big.

And voices not quite there.

There is a time in paintings that is awkward, the parts are almost there, but not quite yet. The balance is just about to be, but is slightly out of whack. The colors are present, but not totally integrated. Perhaps the cools out number the warms just a bit and need to be reconciled. Maybe the little bits are not yet soothed by some nice medium ones. But the bones are true, and the vision intact and there's still some room for it all.

It's that awkward teenage phase. It's just about done, almost what it is going to be. Almost. The painting has a logic of it's own so the white spaces, the final glazes, the detail here and there, all have a mission to make that logic work. And to capture the story. Make sure the voice is strong and true.

Here, once the marks are down they are down. So at this stage as much painting goes on in my head as on the paper. What I don't paint is as important as what I do paint. But something else can happen here, sometimes we hit upon a surprise. I found one last night.

Today, I think I'll pursue it. ( Hm, butterflies in my tummy when I saw it. That's usually a very good sign.)

But isn't that just like that teenage phase, that willingness to try new things?