Learning

Layer 5? 6? I forget. It feels like layer 1 million. And I'm not even a little close to where I want to be with it. I think I applied too much paint in some places, and now it's lost the glow it had. Not entirely, but enough for me to be frustrated by it. But before I do something rash like gesso over it, I'm going to put it aside and work on the Yellow Mountain, Iceland painting. I think that though this first Yellow Mountain, China painting may be a bust, I learned a lot from it. If I do gesso over it, I have a lot clearer of an idea of what I want to do as opposed to just randomly painting. And isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing in college? Learning? So I'm not too bent out of shape about it. After all, my first oil painting was total crap but the next one turned out really well. I just needed to get a handle on the materials, and in this case, the landscape in my mind, which I want to glow but be in a dark, ominous atmosphere because of the rapidly changing landscape of China. I imagine myself floating miles above this brown and green landscape. Little puffs of black smoke hover above clumped areas of architecture. Then, a breath of wind and they scatter and darken my view. All I see is soot.

I chose China for a reason. It's old and steeped in tradition but the past sixty years have been wrapped in change. The past ten have been like a giant leap into industrialization and now they seem to be grasping the future with a vice-like grip. The question is whether or not it is a good future with breathable air. Another question is whether I can convey all these ideas in one painting.

I've been looking at Turner because he's one of the first artists you turn to (ha!) when you're thinking romantic landscapes. Him and Frederic Edwin Church, at any rate. I really just can't get enough of Turner in particular, though. His landscape are rough and soft, and they really glow. I've been looking at these and thinking simplicity:






In other news, I made some bread! It takes awhile, but if you're sitting around your apartment writing say, a paper for five hours, then you have plenty of time to start bread, realize that you've run out of flour halfway through, make the 10 minute journey to Walgreens, and come back and finish. I'm pleased with it, though it did kind of fall apart the minute I tried to cut it, which was weird because it sounded hollow when I knocked on the bottom like my Mom said it should. What did I do wrong, Mom? Oh well, it still tasted damn good. Jam and cream cheese on fresh baked bread with tea is one of the greatest pleasures in life.


Listening to: Regina Spektor--Soviet Kitsch