The Sound of Brakes

If I have time, I'm going to reinvent myself as a true romantic. I'm halfway there. I just need a stylist, and less cynicism.

The new studio, aka the former living room. I kept one wall red as a tribute. I may lose it later. The paint on the other walls is Sherwin William's First Star. It's a light gray, but it breaks lavender especially in the darker areas behind me. When I have time, I'd like to repaint it with Swiss Coffee. I've used the breakfast hutch in the back to house some oversize art books. I can lay down on the sofa by the window and look at the trees or stare at my paintings.  I discovered enough wool blankets stowed away to open a yoga studio or survive a deep freeze. Behind me are two large floor easels and my flat files. I've never actually sat in a chair to paint before. Different. The space has a good vibe to it. I'm a little neater than I would normally be, but that's fine for now. 

I just want a few minutes or a week or two or a rock solid month of clarity. This idea of reinvention is based on my innate longing to simply be who I am as a painter, an artist and a person, without concern for what's popular, sellable, theoretically erudite, or pretentiously unpretentiously hip. And while I haven't been motivated by the above concerns either professionally or personally, I've spent too much time concerning myself with nuances like how to keep the work out there at a critical level, how the work will be read or received, and the million dollar question, what changes do I need to make in order to sustain both my studio and day-to-day living expenses since weathering a divorce and a difficult relocation back to my childhood home in the south. There is less chaos in the work than there used to be, probably because there was so much chaos in my life for a couple of years. The seemingly haphazard strategies I relied on have given way to a more introspection approach, involving a sharper focal point. It's taking some time to catch up with the work in that regard.

So maybe that's not being romantic at all. Maybe it's my desire to be authentic without worrying about the outcome. I'm talking about the subtleties of making the work and the lifestyle match up with a little more lightness and grace. Which is all to say that if I were to have a vision board, the above picture of my studio would be included, only outside the frame, there would be no worry and no second guessing.

The dog stays in the picture.