This month I am starting again. I am re-examining my art, the pictures that I have left, and the style I want to take onto the new pile of canvases that have arrived.
August has already seen The Cove sail away and become another piece of lost art. Bagheera went the same way , with a cutting ceremony it seems only I can understand. It is cathartic, it is a release. When a painting has stuck around too long, or been reworked to the point where I can no longer see what I want to create; when the canvas is tired of being over-painted, then it goes.
Maybe I should give these pieces away to people or charity shops, as some have suggested, but they are like stale friendships that are past repair. People, and paintings it seems, come into our lives and some stay, some pass through and some never return.
My process of painting? It is my hobby, my relaxation, my creativity. I appreciate everyone who likes my art, and welcome those who love it enough to purchase it for their home. But do I regret any of the Lost Art?
Sometimes. But I then remember the place I was in and why it got thrown away, and I am able to reconcile the feelings I had, and start again.
