“It’s Not a Giraffe,” 36”x50” oil on linen 2019
When I’m in my studio or in my garden, I’m blissfully unaware of what other people think of me and my paintings. But step outside, even for a minute to check my email or to walk the dog, and there it is, someone’s opinion floating about ready to disturb my peace of mind.
Disciplined and perfectionist are two words I hear a lot. These words are foreign to me and how I think of myself. I tend to throw paint on a canvas to see if it works. If it doesn’t, I wipe it off and try again. Over and over and over. I think my whole creative thought process can be distilled into two words, “why not?” Too often our inner critic voices an objection before we can even try something. I try not to listen to the doubter inside me, but to look as objectively as I can.
Does that sound disciplined? Or like a perfectionist? It’s true I’m in my studio almost daily and it’s equally true I work on a painting for months until I get what I want. But to me that’s just being mule-headed and stubborn. Those are words I know and understand. Those are words that I think describe me to a tee. If my mother was still with us, she’d agree.