I have a painting that I am going to finish soon.  Really.  And I plan to resume working on it.   Having studied my calendar diligently I feel very confident of being able, very soon, to find myself reliably in the vicinity of the easel and the paint — for you know it’s difficult to paint when you are occupying one portion of the space-time and the canvas and tools are occupying quite another.

It’s been a busy month.

And during my unintended sabbatical from painting, I stir my hopes by doing same-size drawings of the motif.  It is almost like being there.  I draw the same shapes, apply the same colors, get some very similar effects, and so have a rehearsal of my idea and satisfy a bit of the longing for the motif.

And if one definition of “classicism” is the desire to perfect an ideal — well, I’m traveling that road.  Not by choice, necessarily, but I’m traveling.  It was forced upon me by the big “Detour” signs I encounter at every turn of an overly hectic days. 

But I won’t complain too much.  As long as my friends permit me to keep posting repetitious views of the same motif.

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5 thoughts on “My classicism

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