Instincts

We all have hundreds of instincts every day. Sometimes it’s to do something that our primitive brain wants us to do for survival, or sometimes it’s our self-actualised brain that’s telling us to do something for personal richness. To me painting feels like a strange mix of the two.   There is a bit of me that’s always been drawn to art (ha- see what I did there?!!! The English teacher in me loves a pun). I remember staring at books of paintings when I was a kid and seeing all the strange and wonderful work within: impressionists, and masters of art nouveau and abstract artists galore. I remember staring at the brush strokes and the colours and marvelling at how the artists made something out of nothing.   Every time I travelled abroad it was the first thing that I wanted to see; the art. It was an instinct, encoded in my genes somewhere, that I had to find the beauty that artists and architects and photographers created or captured.  But for many years that was where it stopped.  I could appreciate the creativity and craft of others, I could have it in my home and in my heart but I didn’t have any instinct to do it myself. 

Until one day I just did. For those of you that know about my art journey then you’ll know that I just decided to create a painting for my newly decorated room one day.  A combination of boredom and instinct lead me to it (I had a knee injury at the time and was off work).  Instinct also told me that buying a four-foot by two-foot canvas and just going to town wouldn’t get me the end product that I wanted and so I began.  Instinct made me realise that I was actually very terrible at painting but it also told me to keep going.  And so, I did, and well, you know the rest.  Instinct also tells me to keep going and not give up even if the economic climate is grim for artists right now. 

Instinct also tells me when my work is finished.  For example, I posted a big golden wave the other day and I knew it wasn’t finished.  It needs work.  The joy of the internet is that someone is always willing to tell you when they think that your work isn’t good and that’s exactly what happened.  It’s a great thing to be honest, as the people that love your work would never want to tell you in case you’re hurt about it, but often your instincts are already telling you.  But it’s always good to hear what you already know!  Instincts also tell you when your work is good, it’s not common but it does happen.  And It’s the best feeling.  When you look at something and think, I made that!  And then some other person loves it and want to have it on their wall- it’s a wonderful experience.  So I’ll keep listening to my gut, and hopefully you’ll listen to yours when, or if, it tells you one of my pieces is for you.