My show opens January 3. Or something. It is now October 6. Or... something. I have about 80 running feet of gallery space to cover. I think.
And then the real uncertainty begins. But here's the reality, thus far:
I have completed, mostly, until I change my mind:
17 small studies on board, out of an expected 100
4 boards (12x12)
4 canvases (11x14)
May not sound like much, but it's taking up the entire dining room table. Good thing we don't actually... dine.
I have begun:
4 canvases (8x8x2)
I have not yet begun, but have purchased:
3 medium canvases (18x36)
3 leetle canvases (8x10)
1 big canvas (36x48)
I think I need to grab another 8x10 and do that one as a series of 4. And I bought a bunch of boards at Home Depot today to continue the little studies. I am also considering finding some time at the clay studio to do some wall pillows, but i'm not sure if I want to use that much of Magic Preschool Morning to drive out to Marietta. Plus, all the prettiest clay media are noxious and toxic.
Did you ever imagine someone could paint so many bellies and be so freakin' happy about it? I feel a bit like Monet, painting the same old cathedral and/or haystack 200 different times. Same ol' thing, but it still utterly enraptures me.
Here are my favorites from today:
Yeah, i'm too tired to edit that one 90 degrees. Just turn your head like a hoot owl.
In case anyone is interested, the base process goes like this: paint directly onto my big ol' belly, do a big ol' belly print on the substrate, wait for that to dry, draw lines with chalk pastels. For the bigger canvases, I then do little designs with pastels in the negative space and paint around them with gesso. For the little studies, I color in the negative space with pastels and then add water to hold the color. not quite sure how i'll know when they're done or how i'll treat the sides, but i'm feeling good for now.
Painting makes me feel so complete. Some days, I feel like a doll or a vessel or an empty shell. But painting makes me feel vibrant and alive and just... full. Now would be the ideal time for a quote from Tom Robbins about art, flow, the female body, and general wahoo, but every time I lend out Skinny Legs and All, it somehow never comes home.
Which, I guess, is actually a good thing.