I was at a prestigious art gallery opening the other day and got the opportunity to chat with the artist. The show spanned years and obvious periods for this artist, probably twenty to thirty paintings altogether.
I asked him a handful of questions, but the one that I remember was:
How did he get all his paintings from Los Angeles to San Diego? His answer: he drove them himself, in his van.
He was an older artistic guy, not a mover. It’s not glamorous, but moving around art is part of it. I’m actually really enjoying having a little truck. It’s been very handy.
This giant painting however, does not fit! It’s a bit of a bummer. It doesn’t fit the house it was intended for, it’s too big for me to move by myself. It’s too big to drive across the country to my daughters (who would gladly take it). Its even too big for the gallery.
It’s actually one of my favorite paintings. One that I didn’t set out to paint, but seemed to announce itself. A swan. Such a perfect symbol.
So size.
That’s what’s wrong. I really feel this painting has a home somewhere, but where?!
I’m reluctant to put it back in storage, though I have to.
The less practical side of creating art feels like it’s breathing down my neck today. No one understands why I made such a large painting. I don’t. It just sort of happened. It’s done now, too late for the regret I’m feeling…
Again I get to practice keeping my heart open. (because a giant painting that doesn’t fit, is not worth closing over).
SO
Lots of deep breathing. And a tiny measure of wonder, as in, I wonder how this giant problem will play out…
Peace Kit 