Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Painting and some thoughts behind the process
Paintings, the life of an artist. Paintings and colors all over the house, wherever there is space, even where there is no space. In every angle, paintings standing up, canvases, cardboard to cut on, to pack things. Paintings that were never finished, old paintings, and those that are new where inspiration is no longer. Paintings that have been admired but never sold, unfortunately, some never shown. Waiting, for the right moment, the right person, the right time that is ripe before the artist himself becomes too ripe. Even some of those old paintings one can hardly remember from where the inspiration came when they were painted, and you don't even know if they any longer exist. This one here, for example I can't remember if it was left as it is here or if I covered it up with colors, like an old treasure covered in earth, mud, buried and waiting to be found after a long time, or never again.
Art is like life, a mystery, or else like truth. Sometimes someone expresses himself to show something other times to hide something. Sometimes art comes out easily other times it is expresses with difficulty. And to forget unfortunate things. That often come from people who have hurt us, who have disillusioned us. Let's continue to paint, I continue to do so because in that moment, I feel really good. Sometimes it isn't easy to start over again, but when I do, I really feel fine.