There are just days the eye and the hand do NOT communicate or coordinate. I was reading recently about another art journalist who was talking about drawing getting into one’s subconscious. He was saying that it takes time and until you start to “see” things with that “artist’s eye”, then the art will suffer. He added that this slow process of subconsciously thinking about the art and letting it sort of marinate is one that can often be wrought with frustration, setbacks, and challenges.
I had heard another Beth Moore sermon about taking the high road in life as a woman of faith. She was describing how sometimes that mountain you’ve been climbing is really just a grain of sand and that what we’ve been looking everywhere for is right in the palm of our hands. Things will get better, she said, the rain will stop. Good news is coming. He still cares. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. And I added, “I pray for answers.”
Well, the same is true of mis-attempts with our artwork also. Above, I felt successful with the seven sign and the flowering purple vine flowers started in the upper left of the page, but completely a failure at my stone red path. I had this imaginary image of climbing up a hill and I. Could. Not. Get. It. Down. On. Paper. No. Matter. What. Soooooooo, abandoned. (Now that I look back, it still does have potential, but red is a witch of a color to try to work with when you’re correcting errors.) It’s good sometimes to leave things alone. Kind of like relationships where it’s better to leave broken glass on the floor then to risk picking up the pieces and getting cut.
So. Left alone and revisiting the theme a few months later, here I finally have my craggy little hill, complete with a running stream, an off-in-the-distance sunset, and an interesting and not too overpowering field of green. I noted the bottom right of the page “Gratitude” because I was so happy to have captured in a completely different way the original ideas that seemed (at the time) to been failures.