I don't like my own art...
Most of the time. It's true. I initially wrote "hate", however, I knew I would get an earful from my mother if she ever came across this blog. LOL Granted I'm in the middle of a mood swing and I shouldn't allow myself to Blog, though I think it's important to share what I'm working through, as I believe LOTS of creatives can relate, regardless of medium. I once heard that if we, as artists, still love our work after six months, then we are not growing enough.
Now before you positive thinkers think I'm being melodramatic and flip to another website, please hear me out. Am I alone in this or are there other creatives with more ideas racing through their head than paper and canvas on the planet? My mind is imploding and I think that's an asset to future works. This ramble is not a pity party or one seeking affirmation. I look at my paintings (keep in mind I do about 100 per year) and I feel this caged animal clawing inside my ribs wanting to take my work further, pushing past everything I have ever seen or imagined.
Maybe I am writing this for others who have felt the same way and have not yet expressed the same frustrations. There are gaps in my thoughts, I am not articulating this very well... but for those of you who know me well...you understand my swings and spaces. Well dear ones, these hands are tired. Three paintings today alone for a client, and my fingers aching from rheumatoid arthritis are done typing for the night.
This year I will open the cage door and see what happens. It may be breathtaking. It may be hideous. But at least the images won't be beating themselves around in my head leaving me exhausted and irritable.
PS - there are a handful of pieces I can appreciate each year, please don't chew me out. I think I'm having a growth spurt.