6 February 2008

not so scary

I wanted to do something that scared me a little, pushed me outside my comfort zone. But I didn't mean irresponsible, just exciting. I prefer calculated risks. I might wander around Rome on my own, but right now, for several reasons, it would be crazy to wander around Naples alone.

I'm the "belts and braces" girl who backs things up in a minumum of three places every day before they get to the publisher, and had her dissertation flying aound cyberspace for two years just in case her computer crashed and the CDs wouldn't read. So maybe, by "scary", I meant something that was just unfamiliar enough to keep all my senses alive. I'm still looking for that delicious something.

Yesterday I took four of my increasing number of new portraits to be critiqued by an artist. You have to do that sometimes, when you work alone. It keeps you honest, stops you from getting complacent. Putting them on a blog does that too, I suspect.

Now yesterday could have been scary. He is very talented, well respected, and part of a very talented family. His father and grandfather were very well known artists. One of them did the frescoes in the chapel in the local cemetery.

He was very kind. He pointed out something to change on one, my bright tablecloth needs to be darkened, it distracts. He said to leave big sister as she is, once I have finished her face. That pleased me, I was going to do that anyway. Another he recognised easily, as did his wife, but he said rather cautiously that my rendition, although well painted, was more beautiful than the original. But not to change it. Isn't that what portraits are for? To bring a little of the inside, out?

I wish now that I had taken them all for him to see, but then I wouldn't have been able to take Zacchi, and I had already left him for a few hours. Demanding little fellow he is, that Zacchi.

The artist said, "My compliments. Keep painting portraits". At least that's what I think he said. That encouragement was good timing, because right now I am taking a break from another that I am struggling with.

Remember the portrait of the new glasses? It is a good likeness of the child. Possibly a very good likeness. But you have to look hard to see the mischief. When I see him it is the mischief I see first, and then the child. I'm trying again. This time, I am hoping to paint mischief that might just happen to look a little like my friend.

1 comment:

Sarah said...

That's an awesome thing to do.
I'm glad you took them in.
*high fives you*