Do Paintings Talk? You Betcha.

Atmospheric abstract landscape painting in orange, yellow and yellow-green.

Loud Whispers, 2015

There are some days when my husband says I need therapy. Lots and lots of therapy. 

Funny how those days seem to coincide with my painting days.

Somehow, I always manage to get myself into a time crunch so when I paint, things need to happen, stat! That's when the dialog begins.

I say to the wood panel (my preferred painting surface), "Alright, give it up. 1-2-3. Gotta go. Let's go, let's go." The blank panel stares back at me. 

"How about some chartreuse," I say to myself. That's one of my favorite colors. I reach over for some yellow-green and grey, and quickly whip them together while momentarily relishing the artist's workday ahead, no doubt filled with quiet and solitude.

Only to be interrupted by my painting substrate. < Again.? > I hear the panel complain.

"Yes," I say, ignoring it as I continue blending the mixture with my palette knife. Then I spread the happy color around the panel's surface using my favorite white drywall spatula.

Nice. Love it. Alright, now for some contrast. Dark brown, dark brown.... just spread it around that corner. Okay, good.

<< You have no idea what you're doing, do you? >> The panel is picking on me. It does that, especially when I'm in a hurry. If only it weren't right sometimes. I continue to ignore it.

Now for some blending action. Where's my transparent raw umber? I think to myself, "Ack, I'm almost out."

<< You're in big trouble now. >>

I reply, "Yes, and as for you, you're looking dull. I need a color to spice you up. Where's my color wheel?"

<< Don't you know this stuff already? Maybe you're no good. >> 

The canvas is beginning to annoy me. Alright, orange, orange, where d'ya go? Ah, lovely. (Some momentary blending action, this time with the brayer). I'm beginning to think this might be going somewhere.

 << I think I hear your stomach growling. >>

And so it goes. Back and forth. 

Once in awhile, l stand back and wait for the painting to call for more paint here, more splatters there. Sometimes it whispers. << How 'bout more scratches down my left side? >> Often, it likes to lead me down a wrong path. That's okay, I say. It's all good. The added layers enrich the surface, which I like. It's all good.