What's A Painter To DO?

Summer is gone and we are definitely into Fall. Sunday morning the San Juans were covered with snow. YIKES!
Time is flying by.
After traveling and painting for many weeks I come home tired but still mentally going, trying to rest while preparing for the Colorado Mountain Plein Air Fest in Salida next week.
This is a "meantime"- a forced wait and it can be very hard to suddenly shift out of overdrive into neutral.
Everything in me says to be 'out there'- paint everyday, get busy, plan now for shows to come, work on marketing, update the mailing list. . .
So much to do, so little time. Hmmmm . . .

When I graduated from design school I was working in the Creative dept. of a large, Japanese toy company only a few years in the U.S. and very successful. They built a new warehouse/office facility while I was there and the Engineering Dept. was slated for prime office spots along the windowed portion of the building. After moving in however, the executives, both American and Japanese met and to my amazement, the engineers were moved out of the windowed space and Creative was moved in; believe me this did not go down easily.
Even more amazing to me at the time was that the Japanese executives insisted - "artists need windows to dream".
I thought of that recently - in the light of this "meantime" - and the struggle to strike a balance between what I want to do, what I can do and what I need to do.
Coming home after many events can be like returning from another planet especially when you are exhausted but I am the only one who can give my self permission to stop running.
I think this 'meantime' will be my window where I watch clouds go by - but don't have to paint them.
At least not until next week.

The piece at the top is 6"x 8", from Cheyenne and the Wyoming Plein Air Event.


Chuck said...

Ah, yes. Too much movement. Momentum builds and like flywheels we spin on...and on...and on..., fearing that restarting will be such a great labor, the flywheel is so heavy.

I led our Church youth in a large brush clearing recently. Big job; steep hillside. Fire Department brought out their chipper. On the side of the chipper, which eats up large tree trunks in seconds, is an electric motor, about ten inches in diameter.

"What does that do,? I asked.

"Runs the chipper," responded the fireman.

"No way! That little motor?"

"Big flywheel," said the fireman. "Takes a while to spin up, but once up...don't stick your arm in there."

Somewhere inside that little electric motor is a lesson. Not sure what it is, but I am studying it.

In the meantime, I find myself doing macros in this season: flowers, bees polinating, small things, like the electric motor.

Best wishes,


Susan McCullough said...

Coni, I'm glad to see that you finished the Wyoming painting of our cool spot- it looks really great - the color is beautiful!

Kathy Hill said...

Coni, I love the Wyoming painting best of all, the last one you posted. Would you believe I haven't had time to look at your blog and had to go all the way to the bottom to catch up. You are an inspiration to me--always on the go and with a family, too. Your comments on "meantime" strike a chord with me, too, only I haven't been anywhere, just busy all summer here in La Veta. Sometimes I do my best work in September. Other times I feel a let down as the busy summer season ends. This year I have had a commission to finish and then Christmas season to paint for. So I guess I'll look forward to January...Missed having your work in the SPACe show.

eldon warren said...

So, they gave the windows to the creatives? Hmmm. What in the world were they thinking? :)

eldon warren said...

Oh, by the way, I totally love this little painting.