I’ve just talked to my sister this afternoon who loves this painting. It is the first painting I’ve done in about 25 years after quitting art cold-turkey a long time ago. With the prevailing art movement in favor of abstraction at the time, pursuing art didn’t seem practical. I didn’t even own a drawing pad nor a sketching pencil during the entire time through my corporate career. Most people had no clue I could draw, including my own husband. One day I just had an urge to draw on a printer paper, and I was glad to discover that I didn’t lose my artistic ability. I proceeded to purchase art supplies with the encouragement of my husband.
I initially had a fun start on that breezy Autumn day with my chickens free-ranging in my backyard around the hummingbird garden I’ve planted. My chickens were uncooperative models so I had to take photos of each and draw their forms on the canvas with a charcoal at correct sizes for proper perspective. It was my first plein-air painting, the weather was perfect without a lot of mosquitoes, and I was genuinely enjoying myself. My chickens were having dandy time enjoying the sun and scratch treats that I spread out in the grass area to entice them to stay. I wasn’t pleased with a chicken for being a bully that day, so I only painted her rear.
Then things went wrong… I realized the painting wasn’t working out the way I’ve envisioned. The painting looked like a cartoon to me, and I got very frustrated. I was trying to be painterly and loose through simplified brush strokes. I was painting with a student-grade oil paint after reading an oil painting instruction book. The book advised to paint thick with lots of paint, but I ended up battling a soupy surface and slick mess that I couldn’t control easily. I was doing something wrong, but I couldn’t figure out exactly what…
This painting led me to my first taste of artist’s block. I decided that I needed to at least be able to figure out what I was doing wrong. I’ve won 3 consecutive years 1st place on a prestigious State watercolor competition as a teenager, but oil painting was an unfamiliar medium. I sombered into my academic study and research period to purchase and read all books I could get my hands on. I was afraid to make another “mistake” and being afraid left me crippled and insecure. My husband couldn’t understand my despair and loved the portraits of our chickens.
I told my sister today I’d never show or sell the painting since it is my first painting and is a reminder of my failure. In retrospect, I was too harsh on myself and the painting was an invaluable learning experience. I should’ve attempted and made many more mistakes. You end up with better understanding of lessons after an afflictions, and I’m sure I’d be a better painter by now had I divided my time between studying while incorporating actual practices. I was illogical to expect to play at the Carnegie Hall without Hanon piano scale exercises in analogy.
After I ended the call with my sister, I changed my mind and decided to post the painting online on my newly created blog. It’s easier said than done, but I hope I could remind myself that making mistake is a blessing in disguise for self-growth and I should not be afraid nor be embarrassed of paintings that don’t live up to my expectations.
After all, I always get reminded of the enthusiastic freeing feeling I felt on the start of that sunny day every time I glance at the chicken portraits of Buffy, Boo, Star, Rose, Roxy and Sandy.