The little marquise in my art studio this year reads Dear Patience. This was not only a relevant song to start my year but also meant to be a reminder of a few other things. Among them I thought this would remind me to write more.
Last check on my calendar shows the year is nearly over and I have yet to do any writing other than making brief notes of words I found intriguing, starting a short lived streak of jotting down dreams I could remember, and the beginnings of heartfelt writings like this one that typically only go for about two paragraphs.
(spoiler: I didn’t stop at two this time)
It was also meant to (and actually did in part) serve as a reminder to slow down not only my mind but my brushes. I have a tendency to work through a painting at an uninterrupted rate and I feared maybe I wasn’t taking a slow enough approach to appreciate the art process.
About midway through this year I took an afternoon and flipped through a few binders of paintings: paying particular attention to the ones from around 2017 that launched me into where I am now. They read like a book as I can look at a painting and be transported to a place in time, a feeling or sound, the way I navigated the color a face, or even a single stroke.
In that respect every painting I’ve done holds a piece of me which is the process. 🤯
So it turns out that I don’t need to, nor will I, slow down in order to appreciate the art of doing art. That reminder can be replaced with one appreciating the dear patience it takes everyone else who endures this obsession of mine which shows no signs of slowing down.
Happy ending of 2024. Thank you for liking my art.
Maybe I’ll write more next year.
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