How do you cope with a bad painting day?

[Kimber Scott]

I'm having a bit of a crisis of faith - in myself, mostly. I've been working on a self-portrait, which was actually coming together quite nicely. I could have called it done. It wasn't nice enough, though. So, yesterday, I decided to work on it some more. I don't know what happened. I don't know if I left and went to another plane of existence, or had some kind of walking black-out, or what, but by the end of the day, the planes on the side of my head were fanned out like fish gills and I had this horrible grey reflected light coming off both sides of my face. All my edges were lost, my eyes didn't line up anymore, my lips turned this horrible hooker red and swelled up like I'd just had collagen injections. I wanted to cry. The more I tried to fix myself, the worse I got. Finally, I left my studio, came home exhausted and went to sleep.

I've had bad painting days before and many times after I've slept them off, I go back to the painting and it's not as bad as I thought it was in the first place. Not this time. I got to my studio this morning to find this hideous monster staring at me. I had to start over. It was such a mess. I began laying in the darks and by the time I had to leave for school I thought maybe I had rescued myself, but I'd lost my confidence. (Not that I have much in the first place, but what I had, I lost.) I talked a little about it with my professor and he said sometimes that happens to him. I'm sure he doesn't end up with fish-faced ,collagen-lipped portraits, he actually can paint, but he said he gets very frustrated sometimes.

After class I went back to my studio to check myself out and I'm still in need of a lot of work, but I've made definite strides towards being a real person - not some grey-gilled alien. I'm still very upset, though and I'm wondering - well, two things: First, is there some kind of compulsive illness that causes one to take a perfectly good painting and destroy it? And, second, what do I do about it? Well, ok, three things... Third, if you have a bad painting day, what do you do to make yourself feel better?

[Linda Brandon]

Kimber, the problem is probably just that it's a self-portrait. I've never painted one that didn't suck the oxygen out of the room for a while. Just lock it in a closet and start something else, you can always go back to it later.

Hang in there!

[Lacey Lewis]

I don't have any answers, but man, I know what you mean! There are times when I feel I know nothing about painting, or about art, or about much of anything for that matter. I get really upset, too and wonder if there is any point in picking up a brush again.

Then I am grumpy, and I can't even seem to enjoy a good meal. And my poor family that has to put up with me...

Now, I'd like to think that this is all part of the process of learning and growing. There were times when I struggled like this, and afterwards made great strides. But not always!

So, I would be glad to hear what others do to tame the madness! And maybe, at least, you will feel better that you are not the only one who ends up wrecking paintings again and again and gets no where and feels miserable? (Did you see my thread with the bridal portrait profile!?!)

OK, sorry, not my thread to rant.

[Kimber Scott]

Thanks, Linda. I'm sure that's what I NEED to do. Unfortunately, I'm supposed to turn this thing in for a grade. Oh, I hope the gods don't let me embarrass myself in public. I have until Monday...

Lacey, rant away. It does help me to know I'm not the only one. Last semester, I read Emile Zola's "The Masterpiece." I've talked about it here before. This book really sticks with me, though, because I feel I behave just as the main character, Claude, did in the book. He'd start a painting, it would take off really well, then he'd keep messing with it and messing with it until it turned into a mess. Unfortunately, things didn't turn out so well for him. Now, I'm not that bad, but I can really feel his pain!

I'm thinking hot chocolate might help...

[Tom Edgerton]

99% of the time, if I am self-destructing at the easel, it's because I'm tired. So I do business maintenance, straighten up the studio, and go away. Flailing at the canvas when you're exhausted never amounts to anything but a waste of time.

Trust that what you've invested and learned in getting to your current level of proficiency won't go away because of one bad session.

Best--TE

[Joan Breckwoldt]

Hi Kimber,

I think you must have more confidence than you think because I didn't see any indication that you're thinking of giving up painting! It looks like from your post there is no question of you stopping painting. And, that's what I have done in the past, I've gotten so frustrated when I couldn't solve a problem (when I was trying glazing mostly) that I just stopped painting for months!

So, you're doing the right thing, you're keeping at it. That's all we can do. And try to remember that every painting and all the time spent in front of the easel is learning. I'm better about remembering that now, and even when a painting doesn't turn out, I try to remind myself that I'm learning all the time.

And chocolate does help! So does a day or two off.

Joan

[Cindy Procious]

Originally Posted by Kimber Scott

First, is there some kind of compulsive illness that causes one to take a perfectly good painting and destroy it?

Sure. It's called hurrying to meet a deadline.

Slow down. Be deliberate with every stroke. Be sure to back up and check what you've done, and think about what you're going to do next.

Most likely, you stayed up close, and what you were doing looked great from a foot away. It wasn't until you stepped back and evaluated your progress as a whole that you noticed what you'd done. (As you can probably tell, I learned this the hard way. )

If you haven't read it - get Alla Prima by Richard Schmid. He has some really terrific advice. One thing that might be relevant to you, given your monday deadline, is that it's better to have an unfinished painting in which the parts that are done are done correctly, than to have a finished painting with parts that are wrong.

Good luck!

(Any chance you'll show us the gill-faced painting? )

[Patricia Joyce]

Kimber,


Ive learned that life is like the practice of Hatha yoga, ( a practice of holding poses which increase flexibility and limber your spine thereby giving you more energy). I can be sooo limber once day, then all of a sudden I hit some kind of wall, I wake up and find I cannot touch my toes anymore! In Hatha Yoga they encourage you to be patient, pull back a bit, but never stop the practive, and know that what is happening is a growth period which will allow your body more flexibility once you have moved through it.

I've learned that this applies to everything in my life! When I am experiencing what feels like a set-back, it is really a moving through the fog into the light of new knowlege and ability.

You have grown a great deal as an artist in the past couple years. It has been fun to witness here on the forum. Trust the process, do not succumb to fear, and you will be feeling brilliant again soon. I promise!!!

[Heidi Maiers]

Interesting topic Kimber, and one most of us here can relate to. I am just thankful I don't have deadlines because I never know when I'm going to have those "moments of clarity" or how long they will last.
Sometimes, I can go into the studio and see exactly what needs to be done - and for 10 minutes I can sculpt perfectly, effortlessly, at lightning speed - such a wonderful feeling. Then of course, I get distracted, lose my focus and later try to force that clarity when it's "time" to sculpt. Never fails that I then spend the next 15 hours straight, methodically destroying my piece, causing myself a ton of rework until I'm so frustrated I can't even look at the piece and I leave the room in disgust. If I would only sculpt during those few moments of crystal clarity, I could get so much more done!

[Kimber Scott]

Originally Posted by Cindy Procious

Sure. It's called hurrying to meet a deadline.

Slow down. Be deliberate with every stroke. Be sure to back up and check what you've done, and think about what you're going to do next.

(Any chance you'll show us the gill-faced painting? )

Deliberation... what a concept! You're right. I was hurrying and I wasn't thinking - at all. I was on auto-pilot. If I had been in a plane, they'd be picking my body parts up from around the Himalayas about now.

And, no, you can't see gill-face. She's gone. I spent 6 hours on her yesterday. She is still in rough shape, but she can't breathe under water anymore!

Patricia, Thanks for the advice. It makes a lot of sense.

Heidi, too bad we don't know when we're headed for disaster before we get there. If we did, we could call somebody to talk us down, or something - some kind of "Artists in Crisis" hotline. I can see it now, a man with a bullhorn yelling, "Put the brush down! Step away from the canvas! (Or, clay...) Everything's going to be alright." Instead it's like spontaneous human combustion, before we know what happened, our work is a pile of ashes and so are we. Oh well... working through the forensics seems to be the only way to try to avoid disaster in the future.