A Thought on Canvases

I made a drawing yesterday.  It was good.  By good I mean I liked it and art is done for you.  The drawing was small and took very little time to compose.  Better than good, it was a pleasure to assemble and even more pleasurable to see outside of my skull.  A nice thing about it is that now that it's free I can compose more.

The thought occurred though, holding the sheet of paper up to a light bulb so that I could see it backward and see if the proportions worked correctly, was that I allowed my canvases to grow bloated.  I allowed the canvases to exceed my ability to fill them.  With time of course, any canvas can be filled.  Tortuously.  Screamingly.  With terrific agony.  I'm not there yet.  I was there and it got very ugly for too long and I gave up.

Everything doesn't have to be bigger, better, bigger!, better!.  It reminded me that I select the canvas.  The canvas does not select me.  The sensation was comforting.  "Why has my art gone to hell?"  Maybe it is you that has gone to hell to doodle?  Feel free to back up.  Circle round.  There is no gun to your head.  Don't forget to stop and enjoy what you can do with a smile.




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