Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Oil on canvas, 10x10, $100
My boss told me yesterday that I am too anxious, too wired, that I overthink my job and make mountains out of molehills. She is probably right. But in the workplace, I've always wanted to excel. I've always wanted my work to be perfect, or as close to perfect as possible, and there's a lot of pressure in this.
Some of it - probably most of it - is self-inflicted, although some, of course, comes from the very definition of work. Do a good job, do the best job possible, earn your money. Give value for value.
I think that one of the reasons that I love painting so much is that it frees me from my own demons. When I am painting, I don't wish to be perfect. I don't want my paintings to be perfect. I don't even want to know what perfect is. What I want to do is communicate a mood, a feeling, a sense of place - something that you I can make my own and you can make your own.
There is no perfection in this. In fact, to some degree, I delight in the flaws and the imperfections. I think that they are where the interesting things happen, and where change and growth begin.
October 18, 2011
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