Truth and Lies

These two paintings are both mine. They're both of the same landscape around my home. They were were photographed in progress.But that's where the similarities end.The one on the left is truthful. It came from somewhere inside me. When I look at it, I see myself.The one on the right is a lie. It's an attempt to be the painter I sometimes think I should be. One who uses green effectively. One who mixes more sophisticated colours. One who paints the landscape using actual landscape colours.Not too long ago, all my work was like this. It was all influenced by others. I wasn't consciously copying, but I was looking outside myself for ideas and inspiration and, as a result, my work felt flat and lifeless. Not to everyone - I did sell paintings and I am thrilled that other people enjoyed what I was making. It's just that most of those paintings didn't bring me joy, and I think it's because I knew they were neither authentic, nor the best I was capable of making.I think the hardest thing for an artist to do is to be truthful. It's hard to reveal yourself completely - it's akin to stripping off and running down the street naked. And non-artists don't realize that - so they feel quite relaxed about critiquing your work, offering up this or that idea about how it could be better/different/not like it is now. And you stand there, completely naked, as they yammer on. And it hurts - because that's your insides that are on display and that's your insides they are busy tearing to pieces.So most of us don't make honest art. We hide behind this or that inspiration, or some intellectual idea, or the latest art fashion. We don't even know what it feels like to truly be ourselves.But I have now begun to make work that really does feel truthful. It's still landscape-based (at least for now) but it's become more abstract and much, much more colourful. I had no idea that I wanted to paint in such vibrant colours ... I don't dress that way. I don't live in a brightly coloured home. I am not especially drawn to art that is brightly coloured. And yet, once I started listening to myself and painting from my heart, these vibrant reds are just what happened.And mostly, I am accepting of what's happening. Because when a painting comes together, I now LOVE it. The pieces I have finished lately bring me real joy - and that gives you a kind of armour against the critics. Yes, you are still naked, and people can still make their comments, but you're protected from the hurt because when you look at those paintings, you feel only pride: pride that you made them; pride that you were BRAVE enough to make them.That's how this painting feels to me. I genuinely love it.But that doesn't mean you can't get pulled off track and that's what happened with the green and blue painting.I had been admiring some of Alice Sheridan's work and I had come back from the course with David Tress and both of them use a lot of greens and blues and before I knew it, I was back in my old place - trying to be a different kind of painter than the one I clearly am.I hated looking at that painting. Every time I went into my studio, it was there, annoying me, being all ugly and directionless, reminding me that I had been a  copycat - and not a very good one!So today, I went to town with my orbital sander.[video width="1080" height="1920" m4v="https://www.louisefletcherart.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/IMG_9526.m4v"][/video]Ahhh that felt good!David Tress said to me that he doesn't believe in removing paint. He thinks wiping something off is always a mistake. I disagree. I love sanding back into a painting, or using rubbing alcohol to remove paint. The end result is always interesting - and I think taking away paint is just as creative as putting it on.Anyway, I now have something better than a blank canvas - I have all this interesting texture and history.That painting is no longer a lie. It's mine again and I have another shot at making something honest and real and personal. If I fail again, I have plenty of sandpaper!If you’d like to be notified when I post, just drop your email address in the white box in the left hand sidebar. And for more news, discount offers, and sneak peeks inside my studio, be sure to sign up for my monthly newsletter HERE. (I never spam and I never share your email address with anyone else).