Colour Me Bad! (really bad)
A few weekends ago, somewhere between sheer boredom and a burning desire for some kind of creative expression, I decided that I was going to do a bit of painting. Until quite recently, art has only ever marginally interested me. But my recent trips to Paris and Amsterdam got me really excited about art, particularly, after spending hours examining and appreciating works of artists like Rembrandt, Van Gogh, and William Hogart among others.
And so, in a blinding flash of inspiration, I decided that I would try my hand at painting. I had an image of what I wanted to do and I was feeling fairly confident that I could transfer this onto canvas. So off I went to get my supplies – paint, easel, canvas etc and I began to paint my “masterpiece”.
An hour and a half later, it became abundantly clear to me (and those around me), that I was never going to be the next Picasso. What was meant to be an image of mother and child, turned out looking more like a giant acqua-green kidney bean spread across a deep purple background. As you can imagine, any illusions that I had harboured about my artistic ability were quickly dissipated. I discovered that not only did I lack total knowledge and vision but I had no clue about colour coordination, brush strokes or technique. And so, feeling a little dejected I decided it was time to put an end to the nonsense.
The issue that now plagues me is what to do with the painting? Do I throw it in the trash? Do I hang it up as a reminder of my moment of inspired stupidity – a time when impulsiveness forced sanity into taking a vacation? Do I hang it up, reminding myself that despite the failure; the important thing is that I tried? I’m really not sure. It seems like the jury is still out on that one.
And so, in a blinding flash of inspiration, I decided that I would try my hand at painting. I had an image of what I wanted to do and I was feeling fairly confident that I could transfer this onto canvas. So off I went to get my supplies – paint, easel, canvas etc and I began to paint my “masterpiece”.
An hour and a half later, it became abundantly clear to me (and those around me), that I was never going to be the next Picasso. What was meant to be an image of mother and child, turned out looking more like a giant acqua-green kidney bean spread across a deep purple background. As you can imagine, any illusions that I had harboured about my artistic ability were quickly dissipated. I discovered that not only did I lack total knowledge and vision but I had no clue about colour coordination, brush strokes or technique. And so, feeling a little dejected I decided it was time to put an end to the nonsense.
The issue that now plagues me is what to do with the painting? Do I throw it in the trash? Do I hang it up as a reminder of my moment of inspired stupidity – a time when impulsiveness forced sanity into taking a vacation? Do I hang it up, reminding myself that despite the failure; the important thing is that I tried? I’m really not sure. It seems like the jury is still out on that one.
Comments
Who knows? You may have already joined the long list of Dada-ists and surrealists with your masterpiece -- you just don't know it yet...
take care and lots of love,
F
meanwhile if you dont want to post it all the way to blighty, i reckon you should keep it !!! its not a failure when you've tried something and given it your best shot. meanwhile what looks, or seems to look, not nice to you, maybe something extraordinary to someone else! have faith woman! ;-)