Art | Painting
Painting Challenge: Complete a Painting in 2 Hours
This is what happened when I let go of control over my artwork.
Despite the simplicity of the idea of creating art, I’ve found that there are a myriad of obstacles that get in the way.
One of the biggest obstacles for me is wanting the painting to be perfect. I want it to come out the way I envision it in my mind. I want control over the process and the outcome has to match my intention. That rarely ever happens.
The physical nature of the universe is such that everything is unpredictable. My body and mind’s ability to achieve an outcome is unpredictable. The physical materials and the way they interact with each other and the environment is unpredictable. Life is unpredictable.
When I’ve tried to control my art, it becomes an excruciating art experience. Tension and judgement proliferate throughout the entire creation process. It’s not fun. I like it better when art is fun. Art can be anything and if one chooses art to be not fun, that’s okay too.
Tension
So here is an example of a painting that I created that took me days to create. I can’t remember how many hours I put into it but it was probably well over 20 hours spread over many days. I didn’t have fun creating it because I wanted it to look exactly like the photo below.
The iconic photograph “Afghan Girl” captured by National Geographic photographer Steve McCurry in 1984, features the haunting and mesmerizing gaze of a young Afghan refugee named Sharbat Gula. The image, taken in a refugee camp near Peshawar, Pakistan, became one of the most recognizable and powerful portraits in the world. Sharbat Gula’s piercing green eyes and the vibrant colors of her traditional headscarf create a striking composition that I wanted to reproduce on canvas.
I didn’t use any tracing techniques in this piece, so all the initial drawings were freehand. To replicate the facial ratios and get her eyes just right took forever. Everything was about her eyes.
I have a friend who is an ocularist. If you’ve never heard of that profession before, it’s because very few people have. Ocularists are professionals who specialize in the fabrication and fitting of custom-made artificial eyes, also known as ocular prosthetics or glass eyes. In other words, my friend paints artificial eyeballs to make them look real. After finishing my painting, I had an appreciation for the painstaking work required. Imagine painting all the little details of the iris with the smallest brush you can find.
I can’t say that I like the results of my painting. It wasn’t joyful creating it. It’s a reminder of the frustration of painstaking work. I didn’t like the way the background turned out and I had no idea what to do with the red shawl and her hair. The painting is sitting in my closet.
Here it is:
Each eye is about the size of a quarter.
The reason why I’m showing that painting is because I want to contrast it with a painting that I had lots of fun creating.
Letting Go
This next painting was created in an art class. Every thursday morning, 10 to 15 of us got together to paint at an art studio for 2 hours. There was an instructor there to help us with ideas and techniques if we got stuck. Other than that, we were on our own to create whatever we wanted.
One day, I thought about my Afghan Girl painting and wondered what would happen if I did the opposite process. What if I only gave myself 2 hours to complete a painting? What if I only allowed myself a maximum of two brush strokes to complete any detail? What if I only allowed myself the use of a large dry wall knife to paint the background. These limitations were all designed to stop me from overthinking and to feel the freedom of letting go of control and tension.
I saw a photo of some women in Africa walking down a dirt road carrying baskets on their heads. Instead of trying to recreate the details of the photo, I used it as inspiration to create the feeling of the photo. I love this painting so much that it is hanging in my living room.
In particular, I only gave myself, one or two brushstrokes to detail the arms and face. I didn’t create an initial pencil drawing to layout the figures which is what I always did. As funny as it sounds, I needed courage to let go of the desire for a particular result. After spending about one hour on the background, I added the figures on top of the old paint. I still remember the feeling of, “what if my first brushstroke is wrong, what if the proportions are wrong, what if … what if it all ends up so horribly wrong”.
And then I just leapt. I leapt off the cliff of control and attachment. I let go.
Everytime I look at this painting, I’m reminded to let go of attachment.
I remember to surrender to freedom.
I remember to allow spontaneity.
I remember to trust.
