A simple painting of a fence post that reminds me of the farmers who homesteaded this land, my grandfather and our history in this country. I think of them when I see it, and it makes my heart happy. We hiked together through the forest on one of the last days before they moved away, and when I painted this scene, I poured into it a tribute to the closeness we cherished. I’m not a portrait artist, so you might not see the faces of my loved ones in my paintings, but when I look at this scene, I think of my friends. As I became aware that in seeking to please the expectations I assumed from my audience, I had ignored my own instincts and failed to trust myself, I realized that only by painting to please that inner voice would I be able to develop a truly personal style. It didn’t happen that day, or even that year, but every time I thought about the way that promising painting had failed, I grew more frustrated with my desire to paint for others rather than for myself. That dissatisfaction was a major impetus for change. I was never able to bring back the joy I had felt in that first layer. I kept painting, and overworked the painting. I remember thinking, “I wish I could call this painting finished right now…but no one would understand it.” As I worked on the first layer of this painting, the colors flowed so beautifully, and I was so happy in the result. I never finished this painting, and you’ll never see it in a frame, but when I look back on my artistic development, it was this painting that changed my direction to a more heart-led personal style. When I feel like I’m not painting any better, I can look back and see that change does occur and trust that growth will continue to happen as long as I am painting. Rather, I see it as a mile marker showing the progression of growth. I’m showing you, because I don’t believe in being ashamed of past art. It’s a little embarrassing to look at now and remember how good I thought it was at the time. It gave me hope that I could make good art, even though, years later when I found that painting in storage, it was painfully more amateur than I remembered. My Matterhorn painting mattered so much in my watercolor journey. I’d love to hear about them in the comments! Paintings That Inspire I want to share a few of them here, and as I do, I encourage you to think about what your most memorable paintings are, and why they are significant to you. Some paintings are just special, and as I think about my twenty-four year painting journey, there are a handful that really stand out in my memory, and they do so for a variety of reasons. It was so exciting to realize that my new tools were helping me create the best painting I’d ever made, and that success motivated me to continue painting. On the box was a painting of the Matterhorn, and I painted my own version using my new pencils. I was sixteen years old, and for my birthday, I’d been given a set of watercolor pencils. The first painting I ever made was, unfortunately, a copyright violation.
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