I have been painting and sketching for a few days now. I haven’t done too much of any kind of artwork before. Have had trouble even drawing a straight line.
But I have discovered something … painting and drawing happens. It cannot be thought about or worked out. One has to let loose and allow the brush or the charcoal to lead. The painting has a mind of its own – I might start with something in mind, but somewhere before halfway, the painting takes over and the mind lets go. Control is transferred from me to something else. And this something else seems to bring out images, colours, motion, ideas … and something magical happens. At the end of it I realise, yes, this is perfect ! I may not have decided upon it, but the results could not be better than what I wanted.
The colours are entities in themselves. Each one ‘behaves’ differently. The Red seems to have a mind of its own, refuses to conform and goes its own way … I shrug and let it have its own way. The yellows and oranges co-operate delightfully merging and moving with the brush. The blues and greens are brilliant – seem to burst out, their hearts singing ! The browns and black take over and before I know, they are all over the place and I have to start all over again.
One has to give in to their language, to their world. And joy happens !