When Art Reflects Your Attitude

Last night I set out to paint. It was perfect: I had the house to myself, inspiring new supplies, nothing else I had to get done. It was perfect, except that I didn't want to do it. I've been in a funk for days. Honestly, I just wanted to lay on the couch and watch old episodes of SVU I've already seen.

I forced myself to get up, and just try and find the motivation. I went out to my car and grabbed my new box of tiles, and noticed the beautiful gradient of blues and grays in the sky. With the weather being as dreary as it has been this wasn't an abnormal sight, but it was intriguing and I thought it just might be the inspiration I was looking for.

I hunted through my paints for a couple of blues and all my grays and I sat down to mix my paints. I love mixing my paints; It's almost my favorite part of painting. Seeing the colors come alive, imagining how they will dance with each other, finding just the right fluidity. I love it. But as I sat there with my blues and grays it just felt like a chore. Yes, I was excited to work with this new color pallet and these colors were really beautiful, but I was just not feeling it.

By the time I got my paints mixed I had worked myself up to be excited about this painting, and I was looking forward to seeing them pour out onto the canvas. I poured my paint onto the canvas and began to tilt and tip the paint in ways that appealed to me. I stepped back to look at my work, and I hated it. It was awful. Quite literally one of the worst paintings I've done. I was so bummed and frustrated.

My son came in and said he loved it and asked if he could have it. It feels good to know he loves my work, but sometimes it feels a little empty knowing he loves literally everything I make and wants it all. I know that sounds ungrateful and terrible, but sometimes we just have to acknowledge that our feelings are occasionally gonna be ungrateful and terrible.

I spent all of last night trying to figure out what I had done wrong to ruin my piece. I've boiled it down to this: I didn't want to do it.

When painting feels good it feels like it flows from within me and out onto the canvas. When it doesn't feel good it feels awkward and manipulated. And that's exactly what showed up on my piece. It was a jagged, craggy, over-manipulated, forced mess.

I am going to try and learn from this episode and focus on not forcing creativity. On the flip side, I know there will be times I need to create in spite of a funk, and I now know what I can expect to come out of it. Lessons learned are always a good thing in the long run.

Do you find yourself having to create only when in certain moods? Are you able to channel your bad moods into your work? Share with me your tips and tricks in comments. I’m still pretty new to this and would love to hear your experiences.

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