White Tricycle
What can be gleaned from painting a still-life for FIVE YEARS?!
This seemingly simple image is the result of one of my greatest and longest struggles. I actually began the piece five years ago, finishing it only recently. Why did it take so long? Good question, and I didn't even realize the reason until it was almost done. Allow me to provide some background and insights into my process.
Learning to paint begins with relearning how to see. Our brain mainly selects the information coming through the eyes that help us understand and navigate through life while ignoring the rest. However, the information needed to create a painting is entirely different and often goes unnoticed. When I start a painting, it's because something captures my eye, and a significant part of my job as an artist is to delve into the image and understand, in an abstract and artistic sense, what it was at the core that drew me to it.
Gradually, we shift our focus from navigation to artistry, enabling us to see it more "truthfully." As the work progresses, one of the benefits is that our eye improves, given that we are practicing a skill set after all. Also, as we near completion of the piece, our improved eye can reveal flaws that were embedded since the first few brushstrokes. This perpetual pursuit of improvement is why an artist never truly retires; the elusive goal always remains just out of reach. What’s the saying about the dangling carrot?
In most cases, you sign a piece recognizing what you've learned and apply this newfound insight to the next painting, content in the knowledge that you've become a slightly better artist. However, with this particular piece, I unconsciously rejected this typical procedure. Every time I came close to completing the painting and my improved eye caught a glimpse of what I'd learned and could now see, I would attack the piece all over again. Instead of waiting to apply my new skills to the next painting, I kept incorporating them back into the same artwork. For five years, I repainted it over and over, honing it to perfection until I could sharpen it no further. I had pushed my eye further than ever before.
Does this make the piece a perfect painting? Nah, perfect paintings don't exist. However, it does make it a painting that most accurately represents the artistic image I intuitively knew was there the day I set it up. Was the experiment worth it, even though it took me much longer and resulted in fewer completed works? Absolutely.
Starting with the very next piece I did, I saw and comprehended the visual world at a level of simplicity I'd never experienced before. I began my new work at a stage that usually took weeks to achieve. I'm just beginning to feel that I'm starting to figure this all out a bit. The continuous growth and transformation as an artist are what keep me passionate and dedicated to my craft. There's always something new to learn, a new challenge to conquer, and a deeper understanding of the world to attain through my art.
In the process of creating this particular piece, I learned not just about painting techniques but also the importance of trusting my instincts. This painting taught me the value of revisiting, reevaluating, and refining my work until it speaks with the clarity I envision. It was a lesson in trusting the process.
While this one painting consumed a significant portion of my time and energy, it was an invaluable experience that expanded my artistic horizons and paved the way for future breakthroughs. The dedication and persistence required for this piece served as a springboard for my subsequent works, allowing me to approach each new canvas with renewed confidence and insight.
Ultimately, the five-year journey with this particular painting was not just about the final image on the canvas; it was about the growth I experienced as an artist.
So, while some might see this painting as a simple image, to me, it represents an intricate tapestry of lessons, insights, and emotions woven into every stroke. It embodies the essence of my artistic journey—a journey that continues to unfold with every new piece, every new canvas, and every new challenge. And I am eager to see where this journey will take me next.
Fascinating. I’d love to know more specifics about the lessons you learned while painting it. As a beginning artist, I’m keenly interested in what lessons you, as a seasoned artist experienced. And, what was it like to apply new insights to the same painting? It sounds like this was a new way of approaching painting for you. What was the first insight you applied and how did doing that encourage you to keep doing so for 5 years?
The idea that a white tricycle could give us such beauty is only possible upon seeing a picture of Jeff Larson's painting. The shadow on the wall is so exquisite. My eye stops to take in that blueish streak which conjures up the feeling I get when a rainbow appears in the sky. How did Jeff come to paint that amazing illumination of the tire under the front fender? Perfect! I stop dead in my tracks as if it's a neon sign begging my attention and I stare in wonderment at this excellent, lovely painting!