Ten Million Things

There are ten million things that can get in the way of a little creativity, and half the days work involves blocking the 10 million things that take one's time.

Today I managed to paint two hours. (I also wrote for three hours.)

Today's thought is this; an artist must be so careful as to what he says: anyone who listens to an artist's thinking usually listens with ears packed full of ego. It is a sad slow truth that any creative person must talk like a bunny. Say what you think, say what you feel, say what you mean, and you are immediately chastised. This is what I call the Borg Effect. The group energy rules. Whosoever sounds like they could be above anyone, is torn down. It is also the 'king of the hill' game.

So the rule is you can do anything you want, just don't say anything. Your art won't get you in trouble, your talking will.

Sunlight

I have been working on a painting, a very complicated painting, in two aspects: imagine putting two colors next to each other with a little brush, one side green, one side yellow, for a thousand feet--yet the line curves and squiggles. Take this edge, overlap it with another one, overlap both over a background picture of form, contrasting colors, keep depth and color working, so it doesn't turn into a wall of mud, and one might ask, why is one doing this? It sounds like work, meanial, torturous. Which brings us to the next aspect.

Imagine, somewhere right now there is an artist standing out in a field, and he is concentrating on a canvas, he has the pallette mixed with colors. It is what is to be done. The artist slows down time and sees the world. Any painting is nothing more than a cute view into the thin layer of atmosphere we all live in.

Here is a photo of sunlight on the wall.