A number 2 brush in hand, dab the brush in linseed oil, then, the red, the orange, the yellow and white. Mix it against the palette to even the colors...is that it? Not sure; place it in an area of the canvas where the color closely resembles it. Did it blend? Yes, continue to the area you originally aimed to paint.
Strokes go on smoothly and when they don't, I'm turning the brush, changing the direction of the stroke; all the while, gauging the remainder of the painting and deciding where else we are going in the time allowed. Decisions are made, questions asked and answered. Other questions remain unanswered, getting strung in front of me and given their own orbit around my other thoughts.
When I reach snags, hurdles and iron walls, I back away, survey alternatives, including setting this work aside till I can safely throw it away. But the peace and tranquility of working in this oily medium is like none other!
There are days, comparing the 8 hour grind to this work, where I'm so ready to be in the studio, it's near unbearable! But I've come this far, gotten to this point, not because I had all the answers, but because I was willing to ask the questions.
There are moments when the galaxies seem to turn at a dizzying pace; the problems to be solved are greater than applying this ray of light to the canvas. The problems go as far as generations to come, what influence will my decisions have on them? If I stay "nailed" to the office chair, how ill that be perceived? When the weight of my surmising gets too heavy, I walk away from them, leaving them to resolve at a later date.
And just now, one of the answers, a possible solution to one of the queries revealed itself. In the calm of the moment.
