Starting is hard for me.
I procrastinate like crazy, thinking all sorts of outcomes before I even begin.
All I have is an idea.
Here is the absolute positive truth: not one thing has ever turned out as I expected.
For example, those two panels above were primed with gesso for a few days, looking all pristine and ready to become cold wax paintings.
Finally, I decided to start with collage and that was fun. I set them aside and I really began liking them. So I put off applying paint.
True Confession: I just went down to my studio to see if I could show you what they look like now. And I can’t. Because they are completely obliterated with so many layers and one might be nearly finished. Every layer I add is like starting over.
So I now understand that life is a series of beginnings. Painting is one beginning after another. The same with writing stories and novels. In all our activities we start over, employ the same strategies, think this time it will be faster, better easier. We begin again and again and again.
I suspect it is because we are designed to be creative, and maybe, just maybe, God added a dose of forgetfulness so that we do not dwell on the anguish in the process, but the joy of getting to a new finish line every time!
The one on the left is finished and likely of one of the collaged panels shown above.
Not sure about the other, but very well could be. The layers change everything!
