I took most of today off to shop for new materials: interference colors, translucent inks, gel mediums, liquid colors, and pastels. Then dailyness intervened, and I was unable to start work until late in the day, when I finally dragged Fiesta Moon in off the porch.
Fiesta Moon is not a painting in the strictest sense of the word. In 1993 I was invited to create a bunch of floorcloths to display in a brewery. I didn't have a lot of lead time, but I did have a whole lot of white wall to cover. I also had a full-time job. So I produced a bunch of half-assed (IMHO) canvases, of which Fiesta Moon was one. I kind of liked it, so we've been using it as, well, a floorcloth since then. It weathered pleasingly but needs rescue. At a minimum, it needs a new coat of varnish; the old one is badly cracked and flaking off, taking pigment with it. I washed several years of grime off it in the bathtub, then took a putty knife to the surface and scraped away all the loose varnish I could find.
While researching website hosts and Googling my name this weekend (to determine what domain name to use for this website), I found a great post by an artist with a proud and auspicious last name -- though no relation as far as I know -- the October 16 2015 entry titled Absolute Rookie. For those of you who don’t click through, the post describes the progress of a young man who decided to quit his white collar job to become an artist. He started out barely able to draw, but by working hard was, within a year or so, creating work with a high level of technical sophistication. This post has helped me establish some perspective: Of course I am not producing work of which I’m proud… yet. I could draw comparison to my physical fitness, which has – ehrm – slipped in recent years, but the lesson is this: I can’t expect to be creating work at the level I did 20 years ago; those muscles have gone slack and need to be retoned. Onward!