1600

There is a rhythm here.  In life and in art.  The art rhythm sounds like this:

inspire inspire inspire
create
look look ponder
create
look look ponder
create
look look SEE
c-o-n-t-e-m-p-l-a-t-e
fuss, fuss, dab
document, photograph
l-i-s-t-e-n
write
post
p-a-u-s-e
and then - inspire inspire inspire again.

1600 is grin-worthy

Here in the p-a-u-s-e there is a big grin.  In the documenting (a spreadsheet which I have kept for over a decade) I recently typed 1600.  As in 1600 paintings.  One thousand six hundred pieces of art.  And this really means something to me.

When I first began this journey from right-brained banker-type to left-brained creative, a workshop instructor, when asked how to become a good artist, said something like "There is no shortcut to being good.  Paint 400 pieces.  Then you'll be an artist.  Or, at least you'll have some clue about what you're doing.  Four hundred.  There is no other way." (I am paraphrasing for sure, this conversation having taken place looooooong ago).  I sat in that workshop and decided in that moment to paint 400.

At 400 pieces I did have a clue.  At 800 pieces I no longer cared so much what other people thought and became rather fearless.   At around 1200 pieces I sort of lost my way and totally cared about what other people thought and tried to paint for others and questioned everything.   And now, at 1600, I am back to having a clue again and not giving a whip for the thoughts of many (but caring deeply about the thoughts of a vetted few). 

So I am standing here in the pause, looking at this wall of drying paintings, wondering what the next 400 will bring and knowing knowing without a doubt that each of you, dear readers - those who read silently and anonymously, those who read and comment, those who read and share, those who maybe skip reading and go right to the art and those who take that art home with them - you are the melody to this rhythm.  Thank you, thank you.  I am so grateful. xo