Comfort Zones and Gratitude
The giving of gratitude
Today is my youngest son’s 30th birthday. It feels an important day. A day where I take a deep breathe and wonder at all the time that has passed. It takes me back to early days when he was just a babe, to traumatic times when we had to flee for our safety, to moving 300 miles and the opposite end of the country. To new lives and settling in and to becoming a new family. Those 30 years have been a struggle at times and this man that stands before me today makes me so very proud.
A complete lack of funds
Last year after 10 years (minus a year or so in the middle) I was stuck. I had renewed energy and commitment to my creative path but a complete lack of funds. My husband had already paid for an expensive course which had led to this powerful enthusiasm as well as building a studio for me a few years before and many other generous instances too numerous to mention. And now, I was in need of a loan to keep me going. I had invested too much of me, years of effort and money and so much learning and growth to throw it away and just give up.
My son came to my rescue and offered to lend me a good sum to enable me to keep going. He didn’t want to see me fail and he offered his support.
Should I / Shouldn’t I?
It feels a strange thing to accept money from your child. On one hand I was excited at what the loan would mean to me and on the other was some guilt. Could I really accept? It could be a long time before I was in a position to pay it back. Crucially though, it was a small amount to him and didn’t affect his life in anyway. And so I very gratefully accepted.
There was one thing he said he would like and that was a large abstract canvas for his house. This caused me some anxiety. At that point, my biggest painting had been 12 x 12 inches. As all artists know, scaling up is a huge challenge. Painting a large painting is a completely different kettle of fish to painting small. Everything is that much larger, requiring copious amounts more paint, larger tools and a larger vision. What works on a small canvas won’t necessarily work on such a large work, even scaled up.
Procrastination
I procrastinated for several months during which time I was slowly growing the size of my painting and had got to the giddy heights of 16 inches square!
In December I made the decision to go for it. I ordered a canvas 31 1/2 x 39 1/2 and large quantities of the colours I intended to use the most of. More procrastination and some anxiety ensued as it sat in it’s box taking up a big space in my studio for a few weeks.
So much better than I could’ve anticipated!
In January I finally started. I was aware his 30th birthday was fast approaching and I wanted to be able to present it to him as an extra birthday gift.
What struck me apart from the difficulties of moving it and storing it whilst the next layer dried, was just how much I enjoyed this (to me) vast space I had to play with!
It was joyful!
I already had a plasterers trowel that I hadn’t used much previously and it came into it’s own here. Sweeping arcs of thick luscious swathes of paint using my whole arm and body in a gestural movement felt so freeing and really quite poetic. I gave more of myself in the creation of this painting. It took more energy and emotion. I felt a synchronicity with the canvas, like we were talking to one another.
I am so very happy with this large work, the largest I have ever tackled. And most importantly, my son loves it. We have agreed a couple of tweaks and then it will be varnished and strung and then finally delivered to be hung in his home.
When the fear is allowed too much say
Left to my own devices, I have no idea how long it would’ve taken me to scale up so large. I know I’m not alone in finding the thought of doing so, quite daunting. At the end of the day, like the wonderful Louise Fletcher
says, it’s just paint and paper (or canvas) and if you hate it you can just paint over it.As always we are so often our own worst enemies. Our brains talking us out of trying something new, something ‘too out there’. Those ‘what if’s’ drowning out the vast potential possibilities.
Afraid of ‘failing’.
Afraid of ‘wasting paint’.
Afraid of upsetting our fragile self-confidences.
When the opposite is true. We can’t fail if we try because whatever the outcome, we learn something new.
We don’t waste paint when something doesn’t work out, it is the tool of our trade. Painting over what’s been before is a gift to an abstract artist. It gives depth and history and a richness.
And fragile self-confidences are bolstered by experiences and growth. I can now confidently say I can paint a large canvas. I’ve done it. I know it’s possible. I know I love it. I know it opens up a whole new world to me.
Lets see where we go from here!
I’m an east Asian. Growing up in my culture, it’s almost an obligation to give parents money especially when they are in need. Don’t feel guilt. I think your child will be happy for your exploration on larger canvas : ) I say so as a 31 years old daughter. I paid for my mother’s ashtanga class. I never hesitated about spending that money for her. I am really glad to see her practice progress despite her initial self doubt.