After not painting since last year, I started again this week. I had stopped because I ran out of ideas for paintings. Plus my walls were filled with 100 paintings, most of which I liked. So, after a few months of looking at my supplies gathering dust, I put away my brushes, paints and easel.
During the month following my hernia surgery, I filled my downtime with walking, Netflix, reading, listening to podcasts, reading crap on the internet and writing. Now that I’m nearly 100% recovered, I’ve found that with my new daily workout, I have even more time.
And so, I pulled out my supplies to see if my desire to paint would return. I am happy to report that it has.
My mind is much clearer now that when I first began painting in 2019. I see things differently. I view life differently. I feel differently.
I am still learning while painting, but I am no longer a beginner. Here are a few of the changes I’ve realized:
- I prefer most paintings to have a few colors, all in the same family. I’ll paint a seascape in black, white and gray. Or in shades of blue. Or green.
- I like to keep my compositions simple. A few mountains. An ocean with three boulders. A single tree.
- If I want to paint something busy, I need a tutorial to follow.
My mind is now filled throughout the day with thoughts about composition, color and scenes to paint. It is a welcome respite from thinking about surgery, Covid and politics.
Sometimes, I’ll paint an impressionistic floral landscape. That’s the only time I seem to be able to add a lot of colors and not have it turn out like crap.
I wish I could paint like Leonid Afremov, but I can only mimic his style by following online tutorials. His colors and compositions are absolutely stunning. I have a print one of this painting he did hanging on my wall. My attempt to replicate it was a disaster. I will have to try this again someday.
A few years ago, I wrote about how my wife brought color into my world. Before her my world was bleak and gray. When she died, it felt like the color in my world had died with her.
That was grief.
I would never have imagined that a few years years later, I would have a house full of paintings I had created and furniture I had stained in a multitude of colors.
My wife did bring color into my life. I think she would be smiling her big cheesy grin and cheering me on if she could see me now.