Looking at this latest assemblage I wonder -- what was my intention? I liked the lavender color and some of the texture cased by the embedded cheesecloth. I liked the aqua shape. I didn't much like the ketchup, mustard and relish "form" so I decided that should be removed. This was a piece I intended to "recycle" after all, so anything was possible.
At the studio I struggle with intention -- the decision of what to paint and the method to getting there. For some reason I believe there is a "right" way to draw or paint. My conscious self knows that this sin't true, but my unconscious self believes that there must be. I look at the work of other painters and think -- "if only I could paint like that I would be -- successful?" And then the conversation in my head spirals through what does "success" mean.
There is a fundamental lack of trust in my own "voice" that undermines my confidence. There is an external standard of "good" that I am striving for when, if I was a fully "realized" artist, I would paint what I paint and not care about any one else's point of view.
But how many artists do that -- create art and not care what anyone else thinks? Notable artists have become well-known because they aggressively tried to chance the underpinnings of art (from Pollock to Hockney), or embrace a timely political point of view (from Guston to Haring), or become enthusiastic participants in the marketplace (Warhol and Koons). They captured something about their time, the public's imagination, or their work was promoted by someone who saw a business opportunity (even after they were dead). These are measures that artists are constantly judged by. "Did you sell anything?" It takes luck, talent, connections, and a good business plan to reach this kind of achievement. Artists participate willingly seeking approval of teachers, other artists, critics, galleries, juried shows, or paying customers.
If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it -- does it make a sound? If a painter makes a painting and no one is there to judge it -- does it make an impact? If you aren't selling then you aren't a "serious" artist. There must be thousands of paintings in the collections of museums that never make it out of storage, yet at one point those artists were worthy of being collected. There must be millions of paintings in the studios that get thrown away when the artist is no longer around.
I don't want to think of myself as a hobbyist. I've been seriously painting for twenty-five years. All I can do is paint the paintings I paint. That has to be my intention.
Some of my intentions are long term -- like the intention of each series I begin. Some are short term -- like the intention of trying to resolve a specific "problem" with a specific piece using a specific technical application -- which only create new "problems" to be solved.
I admire my artist friends who refine their work -- getting better and better at the aspect of drawing or painting that interests them. Seeing new in even the smallest of changes. Those are people who have a signature style that is immediately recognizable. Their intentions are clear.
I'm still searching, I guess, and that's fine. I intend to keep painting until I don't paint anymore. In the meantime the lavender is all but gone, the texture is obscured, the aqua shape obliterated, and the ketchup, mustard, and relish returned. I guess, as an artist, intentions aren't everything.
