Everything counts
During my second art show as a nice couple walked away with one of MY paintings, it occurred to me that I’d never see it again. I grabbed my camera, chased them down, and took a picture of them holding the painting with an amused look on their face. There were so many things I didn’t know then — that kind couple would return to many art shows as supporters and friends, I’d do many shows in malls that smelled like Chic-fil-A and tennis shoes, and I’d never get used to telling a painting goodbye.
I’m not great at long term habits but I’ve maintained this one. I photograph every painting as soon as I finish it, before it has a chance to leave my studio for a few days or forever. Obviously I want to keep a visual record but the most important reason is I want to track my progress. I probably have ten or twelve books like the ones above, each representing a year of painting. Now my photos are kept in folders on my computer but they serve the same purpose.
They show me trends in my work - the big picture. I see that I’m learning and growing even though it’s barely noticeable on a daily basis. I see weaknesses that I’m consistently working around and need to confront. I see tendencies to fall back on familiar subjects and approaches that jolt me out of my rut. And most of all, I see lots of paintings — the sheer volume of work can reassure me at times. There is so much I can learn from looking at a whole year of work — every single piece, whether I pronounced it a successful or failed piece at the time, deserves it’s spot in the lineup. At times, I’m tempted to not enter a “failed” piece in the photo log but I’ve learned that rankings change with time and perspective.
As the years of painting add up, the photos become a journal of a creative life. Lessons learned, decisions made, lines drawn, color added to otherwise dull days.
