I remember the furrowed brow of my art instructor. He would stand before my offering and don a thoughtful expression then tell me to keep working. There would be suggestions but usually he just left me to it to find my own conclusion. I realise what I’m doing now is so completely different from my large pieces in art school, pieces that took months to complete. But I still think of Dr H and the furrowed brow.
And so I worked and reworked and discarded and went through all the emotions you’d have in a relationship, but with my artwork. I loved it/hated it/thought it could do no wrong/then broke up with it. Unlike my disastrous relationships, however, I was able to pull my work out of the fire.
The small piece above I have merely rescued from mediocrity to set it into the ‘possibly good now’ pile. Scanned, printed, then dished out to the usual places. I’m actually quite pleased with this one. I hope you like it, too.