An update

I just got back from spending my hard earned coffee cash. The good thing is that I now have nails so that I can hang some pictures and thumbtacks for smaller/lighter things.

I think I have a problem with cluttering. I like things clean, such as the dishes and shiny surfaces, but I can still let things go too long and be fine with it. But, perhaps I am just deceiving myself and the negligence is attributing to my crappy attitude at the moment.

Now I looking for something to propel me, to excite me, to get me motivated to do something, be it worthwhile or frivolous.

Last night I tried watching one of my favorite, campy but funny westerns called My Name is Trinity (oh, yeah!). "They call me Trinity. Right hand of the devil!" - his brother is, guess what, "left hand of the devil." The devil is their mother, figuratively speaking of course. Trinity doesn't have hooved feet. So, after giving that about 10 minutes I then watched Wallace and Gromit: A Close Shave. This was far more entertaining due to actual craftsmanship and a few more than two days spent on the writing+camera work.

This helped a little, but I still need to start something.

Also, I am still looking far to much at other artist's work and not doing enough of my own. I thought about going out again and 'wandering', doing sketches, but I don't want to try and force something. Maybe I'll try it again tomorrow. Just do it.

And another thing, I need some sort of back story, truth or not, in order to really get me going on something. It need not be elaborate but it must have some meaning. Drawing a figure or object without a reason is great practice and can still convey some message depending upon the environment or position, etc. But with a story the piece takes on a whole new meaning.

I wish I could think of an example, but say you see a piece for the first time, you haven't edged close enough to see the title yet, all you are confronted with it the work, and it is speaking for itself. You are moved by the image, perhaps the contortion of the body, the agony or joy in their expression. Although not noted always at first, the space in which the object occupies informs you. He is cramped, too close to the frame, he can't breathe, she is distant, near, intimate, personal, leaving, arriving, just bored, staring back. The colors instantly convey their own emotion, before your eyes had drifted from the previous work to this one, your peripheral had registered the colors: their intensity, dullness, light or dark value, warmth or chill. The proximity or distant of each of these qualities also informs you. Finally, the scale either makes you stand back or close in, peering for details.

All these things and more give you information about the piece, perhaps symbols in the piece give something away, the inclusion or exclusion of something that should be there for historical reason, tradition, the story you believe it is retelling. Finally, you have a good impression of the work, it takes you back, there is something about the work that resonates but you don't know quite what it is. You read the title and suddenly the emotion you have about the work begins to drop into place as you realize what this work is about, you have a personal connection, a religious one. You are in awe. Someone has recreated an experience, not by direct translation, but instead by creating a new experience (See David Wright's article on side). It seems fresh but grounded at the same time.

I need lunch.