Unexpected pleasures

I’ve been restless lately, itching to start some new work but low on necessary supplies. I ordered a roll of canvas from the supply store at the Art College but it hasn’t come in yet. I ordered some more paint from Aboveground Art Supplies in Toronto but it hasn’t arrived yet. I have enough paint to do some work, but not all the right colors I want. Aboveground didn’t have ultramarine violet in the large size, only the smaller size, which I would use up in a few small minutes. So I will have to order them from the manufacturer, R&F Paints.

Yet this morning, I cleared the frustrations away and put in several very productive hours working on reworking work.  To my surprise, it was exhilarating.  Paintings that I had thought I had (maybe even several times) finished, blossomed with what seems to be constantly growing insight into what can make a painting work.  And work better.

I suppose it isn’t really work in the traditional sense.  It’s just so intuitive, so immediate, spontaneous.  Maybe even thoughtfully spontaneous.

So when is a painting finished?  When it feels right, completely right.


About leyaevelyn

About thirty years ago, I moved from New York City to rural Nova Scotia. For an artist, it is a good place to live. Spacious and quiet. Despite the beautiful scenery and frequently grey skies, my abstract paintings focus on color, its expressive qualities and how it creates form and space.
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