Knowing When to Finish

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. - Louis L'Amour

Eighteen months ago my calendar was blank; nothing but empty squares staring back at me, waiting to be marked across with confindent slashes of confident blue ink.

As offers to exhibit came in I accepted almost all of them. After all, I had 300-some blank squares to fill, right?  I filled my date book with group shows, dual exhibits and one giant Featured Artist obligation. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I’ve mentioned before that keeping these obligations and creating art constantly was like riding a bicycle down a steep hill: just don’t think about it and you’ll be fiiiiiiine.  Screaming might make you feel better, but it doesn’t really help, and bothers the neighbors. If you keep your wits about you, you will find yourself safe at the bottom; sweaty, heart thumping wildly and doubled over laughing off the remnants of fear, swearing you’ll never do a crazy thing like that again.

It was a wild, crazy, intense experience, and I can say that I painted some pretty great pictures. That is the upside.

I’m finding there’s a down side though. In my efforts to not overwork a piece, to be fresh and clean, maybe I didn’t myself enough time to think problems through; maybe I finished a few of those paintings too quickly, thereby not finishing at all.

Reviewing my stash of signed art recently I found a few that surprised me, and not in a good way.

Have you ever caught your own reflection in a window unexpectedly?  Occasionally you recognize yourself and smile, maybe you’re pleased with what you see. Maybe you use the opportunity to adjust your hair or check your lipstick.  Now and then, however, you feel a stab of concern for that poor lost soul and wonder why their keeper let them out of the house looking that way.  Then the painful shock of recognition; they’re wearing the same shirt I am – why, that’s my … that’s … me…oh dear.

Copyright 2010 Patricia Scarborough Firefly Morning 30 x 40 oil

Either way it’s an honest assessment.

That’s the lesson I derive from those months of painting constantly.  Showing up ready to produce is absolutely necessary to create a body of work.  With that, however, is a need for time and a little space.

I anticipate that I will again, unexpectedly or not, come face to face with a painting that I signed and declared finished.  Will I recognize it with a gasp of delight, or will there be that moment, that long pause before I realize with a nasty start that it’s my signature in the corner?

Copyright 2012 Patricia Scarborough Firefly Morning - revised  30 x 40 oil

I see now that it takes a few days, sometimes even months to know for certain that a painting is fully mature and ready to leave my studio.  As I look over the calendar for the next several months I’m pleased to see how delightfully clean it is. I’ve made it to the bottom of the hill in one piece, laughing and pleased with myself. Just the same, I’m looking forward to the longer, slower glide downhill and see if I don’t get to the bottom just fine. 

Congratulations to All

It's celebration weekend here at the Scarborough house.

Not only are we celebrating my 4th anniversary as blogger extraordinaire (yes, I say that with tongue firmly planted in cheek).
We are also celebrating the culmination of years of study by our youngest Fine Young Man, Timothy, who graduated from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln with his Doctorate in Physics and Astronomy.

The first thing is to make certain your name is in the official record.

Tim in da hood.

I used to help him with his homework, and then he started kindergarten and that was the end of that.

So this weekend we're celebrating with family and enjoying each other's accomplishments.

Of course the reason you, Dear Reader, are checking in with me is to see whose name gets drawn out of Handsome Husband's Magic Hat and wins this sweet little 6x8 oil painting that I'm giving away to celebrate my blogging milestone.

@2102 Patricia Scarborough 6x8 oil   Flowering Crab

In celebration of the 4th Anniversary of this blog...

Handsome Husband and his own Vanna White, my Sis

the winner is...

Cathyann!!  Cathyann is the winner of this lovely 6x8 oil.  Hey sweetie, email me and lets figure out how to get this  to you.

A round of congratulations to everyone; please!!

Happy Anniversary Again

Greetings Dear Reader –

In a desperate attempt to find a nugget of inspiration for this post I spent some time scrolling back into my own archives.  Post after post, year after year until the list ran out. The date was May 6^th, 2008.

Wha-?

Four years?? Four years ago next week!! How did that happen? 

One post at a time my dear. One post at a time.

More importantly, why?

February, 2007. I had stepped away from an 8-to-5 job that I often enjoyed, but also left me frustrated and empty.  You may know that feeling, that gnawing, low hum in the back of your heart.  It couldn't be ignored any longer. With Handsome Husband’s complete support I created a small studio space in our home and whispered, “I’m ready.  I want – I need – to give this painting thing a shot. ”

I had no reason for blogging other than the fact that Alyson Stanfield, art business consultant, suggested that it was an important component of an artist’s public presence (pg. 104 of her excellent book “I’d Rather Be InThe Studio”). Since I actually paid her for that advice (one of the smartest things I’ve ever done, by the way) it occurred to me to actually follow it, so I set up my password, my template and my color scheme and started thumping away at the keyboard.  I started it because she said so.

But what has kept me coming back week after week for all these years?

Simply put:  you, Dear Reader; Handsome Husband; and me.

Many of you have shared my exploits since the beginning. You know how I operate, what gets me going and keeps me at my easel day after day. You’ve allowed me to pull back the gauzy veil that hides the inner workings of the artist’s sanctum sanctorum and laughed (or rolled your eyes) with me. Sorry if I popped your illusion of the artist’s groovy life. (Who knew that an artist painting a charming landscape in a field nearby may have just crawled out of a hole they stepped into that swallowed them to their elbows?   Did Monet ever do that?) 

A few of you have been kind enough to comment, and let me know that somehow we found common ground; maybe not in exactly the same way, but in spirit or in ideal, or maybe in the way I turned a phrase.  Thank you for that.

Handsome Husband has kept track of me as well. His patience and support means the world to me.  I often write for him as a way of sharing what has gone on in my heart and mind while wrestling with the profound as well as inane elements of this business.

And I keep at this weekly blog for me. Like learning states and capitols in 3^rd grade, quite simply this is good for me.  Working alone deep in the right side of my brain it becomes entirely too easy to let logic, linear thought and formal sentence structure slide deeper into one more pile of Stuff I Used to Know. 

It’s been a journey of discovery and you’ve been kind enough to come along for the ride.

How to celebrate this momentous occasion?  Prizes!  Gifts for all!  Well, maybe not all. How about just  one of you.  But who? (To whom? Another addition to Stuff I Used to Know.)

Leave a comment before 4 pm on Sunday, May 6^th.    I’ll put your name into Handsome Husband’s Magic Hat.  With his help – as usual – a name will be drawn, and a winner declared.  To that dear commenter (is that a real word? Another thing I for the pile…), I will give this painting:

©2012 Patricia Scarborough  Flowering Crab 6 x 8 Oil on Panelli Telati canvas covered board

No strings attached.  Give, like a sweet present. Just because.

HH and I were enjoying our usual walk by the Fillmore County Fairgrounds. Several years ago a grove of flowering fruit trees was planted to help tame that corner of town. When the late afternoon sun recently swept across this little orchard…gorgeousness.  It’s a distinct possibility that this painting will be the first of a series of paintings of this lovely grove of trees. 

I have learned abundance in the last four years.  I would love to share that abundance with you.

Help me celebrate my blogging achievement. You don’t have to say anything grand, a sweet ‘hey’ will do. 

Thank you for coming along all these years. Let’s celebrate, shall we?

Aha's and Free Gimme's

I’ve just wrapped up my last spring workshop commitment, this one in Grand Island, Nebraska, home of the Grand Island Sketch Club, Stuhr Museum and Prairie Winds Art Center.

Thanks to the Grand Island Hy-Vee store for allowing us the use of their Community Room.

This group consisted of experienced painters who have  won their share of accolades. Their names are already written in the histories of art collections and awards near and far.

The challenge for me was this; how do you teach a group of artists who have probably forgotten more about painting than I’ve yet learned?

The solution was to share what I know about what I do, and get out of the way. Watch from the back of the room and learn from them. Offer a fresh eye now and then; a “what if…” and then zip my lip.

Ethel and Edith prove we're never - ever - too experienced to try something new.

Creativity of any kind is a solitary business. Guidance and experience from others can be absorbed on a certain level, but I strongly believe it is in the quiet hours alone that those ideas coalesce and take form, where the aha’s take up residence in fertile soil and begin to grow.  How, or even whether, those moments take shape and grow into something useful is up to each artist.

An 'aha!' taking shape

For many who want to pursue a creative life, there is often a jarring moment when the delight of creativity bumps up against the reality of the hard and focused effort it takes to do it more than once.  Dorothy and her friends found that out when Toto pulled back a curtain to reveal a solitary man working like mad to create the illusion of something else, some otherworldly thing.  Her first reaction was disappointment and loss; if the vision of the wizard weren’t real, than what chance did she have to get what she wanted?  The surprise was that she had the tools, but it was up to her to do the work. 

Getting together with other artists – especially women artists – is a wonderful way to network with those who share the same interests and frustrations; to deal with not only our creative challenges and solutions but to share the quandaries of our personal lives as well. When that’s all said and done, we still go back to our kitchen tables or spare bedrooms and do the work we set out to do – alone.
This week, that’s where I’m headed. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to spend extended hours at my own work and I’m anxious to see where it’ll take me. 

One definite goal is to make plans to celebrate the 4^th year anniversary of sharing my thoughts and ideas via this blog.

Four years?! What to do…what to do?

Why, I think another Free Gimme is in order!

You can enter my 4th Anniversary Free Gimme by commenting on any post in my blog library during the next 2 weeks.  You don’t have to say anything particularly brilliant, a sweet hellow is plenty. Your name will go into Handsome Husband’s Magic Hat, from which a name will be drawn out sometime in the early evening of Sunday, May 6^th.   (For the slightly paranoid among you, there is no ulterior motive. I’m just tickled that you’re out there reading.)

We'll draw out a name. To that person will go a lovely 6 x 8 oil painting. How's that for a way to celebrate?

Until then - go create something!