In the late summer of 2022, I was riding pretty high in a creative sense. Much to my shock, I had secured the first two grants that I had ever applied for to do the research and development phase for a solo exhibit of my paintings.
I used part of the grant money to lease space in a co-working hub for my studio, which really made me feel like a true “professional artist.”
So, when my Dad asked me if I could paint the Pillars of Creation nebula for him, I thought, “how hard could that be?” I figured I could knock it out between my exhibit painting work and have it done in time for Christmas.
As it turned out, the painting was much harder than I expected.
I had some ideas on how to tackle it, but it seemed like I was hitting roadblocks at every turn. Try as I might, I couldn’t capture that softness of the nebula’s clouds and I was stumped on how to achieve its radiant glow.
I was largely self-taught as an acrylic painter at that time, and everything about this painting felt outside my wheelhouse. It was a puzzle I just didn’t feel equipped to solve.
This is the only photo I could find on my phone of that first aborted attempt and it soon ended up in a box under my desk at the studio.
I promised myself I would finish the painting eventually, but I never did. I figured what was the point digging it out again if I couldn’t solve the painting’s fundamental challenges.
Waiting for the right time
We might not realize it, but we are constantly adding new skills and experiences to our creative tool kit. What I find particularly interesting are those times when a seemingly unrelated skill will spark something in a completely new way.
For instance, I took piano lessons from age six to sixteen, at which point I quit and have barely touched a piano since. In my early twenties, however, I did two years in computer animation. I was only a few months into my first animation course when I realized I was counting out the beats of my animated actions with the precision and rhythm of a piano metronome.
So, even though I never pursued piano beyond my teenage years, I could still call on some of those skills for an entirely different creative endeavour.
Flash forward four years to yesterday, when I started my second attempt at Dad’s Pillars of Creation painting. The big difference between my last attempt and this one is that it is being done using oil paints, not acrylics.
I have probably completed at least a hundred paintings in acrylics on a wide variety of topics, but only two oil paintings prior to this one. While I’m still learning the ropes with the support of my painting mentor, I do know that because oil paints take so much longer to dry—about a week compared to acrylic’s fifteen minutes—I can create much softer blends between colours. Add in the loan of my mentor’s badger-hair paintbrush, and the difference in the feathery softness of the nebula clouds is like night and day.
After only a few hours of work, I can already see that the painting is now possible for me to complete in the way that I want when it felt entirely impossible not too long ago.
The vision for the painting hasn’t changed during that time, but I have.
I decided that I wanted to try oil painting as something new after finishing all the acrylics for my exhibit.
I brought new resources into my life like attending weekly painting classes to support for my journey as an artist after being a proud self-taught painter for so long.
In other words, I didn’t have what I needed the first time around, but now I do.
It isn’t even the first time that I’ve done multiple attempts of the same painting and I’ve since learned that many artists throughout history have returned to the same subject over and over again as they continue to hone their craft.
So, even if you think you have hit a creative wall with a project and feel ready to bin the idea entirely, don’t be too hasty.
You can hold onto that vision lightly in the back of your mind and someday you might come across what you need for a breakthrough.
Whether we know it or not, we all wear masks. There are aspects of ourselves that we want the world to see. There are aspects of ourselves that we want people to believe.
But what is our interior mask? What parts do we keep just for ourselves? What do we choose to hide?
In October’s workshop, we will explore both sides of our mask using paints and an array of collage materials on white paper masks to create a representation of our inner and outer expressions.
Inner and Outer Masks
Sunday, October 18th, from 1-3pm
Atelier Artista (4th floor)
cSPACE Marda Loop
1721 29 Avenue SW, Calgary
Tickets are $30 and include all art supplies and refreshments.