Getting Worse… But Who Cares?

My current landscape project — known as “The River Tree” — has been languishing on the easel for a time. We’ve been busy dealing with eye appointments for both my husband and me, dealing with family health issues, and just dealing with the day to day difficulties of life as we get older.

But I got tired of looking at that bare tree and the indistinct river banks and the weird looking marshy areas, and yeah, what I’m saying is that I just got tired of looking at the unfinished painting sitting over there in the corner of the studio. So, I took action. I threw on my old painting clothes, grabbed a few brushes, and put a bit of paint out on the palette.

I gave it my best. I really did. My intention was primarily to “refine and define” the riverbank with a bit of shadowed area under the distant background trees, a lighter grassy area coming forward, and then a clear “line of demarcation” to show the water’s edge. That part actually went fairly well. But then, there I was, dressed in my studio garb, paint and brushes sitting out, and it hadn’t taken me long to do that riverbank. Why not just go ahead and do a little more?

That’s where it all started going wrong. I worked on the marshy, reedy areas — those are those odd-looking brownish splotches of paint out in the river. Oops. Not good. I made a couple attempts to make them look more like what I think they’re supposed to look like, but I’ll probably end up painting over them.

I also started adding in a little more color to some of the background, but it was very “hit and miss”. I wasn’t sure what I was doing or why I thought I should be doing it, so I just dabbled around here and there.

And then, since I had these greens on my palette and since my paintbrushes were right there… well, yeah, I started in on adding leaves. This is the tricky part. These leaves, of course, are the reason why I’ve doubted myself all along. Maybe I can paint a distant backdrop of woods, and yes, I can do skies — with or without clouds. I can do reasonably good with water, and I can even paint thick tree trunks and add a bit of light and shadow. But limbs going here and there? Limbs with leavings dangling everywhere? Not a chance, folks.

So why did I even try? Well, that’s a good question. I’m not sure I even knew the answer until today. I’m getting ahead of myself, though.

As you can see, I did try putting in some leaves. Let’s just agree that this will be a “first layer” of leaves, and let’s imagine that at some point I might be able to add in some tiny little limbs in places where tiny little limbs would be. I do plan to work on the lights and shadows of the tree’s trunk, but after my attempt at painting leaves, I decided I’d had enough oil painting for today.

I stepped back, took a look at the painting, and shook my head. “It’s just getting worse, not better,” I told Hope, the little tuxedo cat who “helps me out” in the studio. Most of her help involves removing things from tables and shelves, or taking things down from the bulletin board, but, oh, well, she does what she can.

So do I. I do the best I can with what I’ve got — a phrase that’s become a bit of a motto for my husband and me. As it stands right now, the best I can do with this painting is add splotches of color here and there and try to come up with something that bears some resemblance to a leafy tree.

I sighed and figured I’d share a little post about my disappointment, and then I commented to my husband about how much I’m enjoying painting again, and that’s when it really hit me. I’m enjoying my painting time more than ever now because, under the circumstances, I can’t really expect the greatest results. The purpose of painting is to enjoy the process not concern myself with the results.

I looked at the painting again — meanwhile, my husband was praising how good it looked to him, but he has vision problems too, so I had a good laugh at that remark. I thought the painting looked rather bleak before, and maybe it looks worse now. Who cares?

I’m not intending to enter this work in any competitions. I don’t plan to put it up for sale. My only intention is to have fun standing at the easel making broad brushstrokes here and there, dabbing on little spots of color in other places, and just playing around and seeing what I come up with.

I’m going to give it a few days, and then I’ll come back to add more layers of leaves — which could be a mistake, but you know what? It’s fun to add layers of leaves, and who cares what they look like? I’ll also try to cover up those marshy spots, and maybe I’ll just end up with some muddy water, but you know what? It’s going to be fun to try, and who cares how it looks? I’m going to truly do my best on the tree trunk and I’ll probably add a few color variations in the foreground grass, and who knows how it will turn out. And you know what? No matter how it turns out, it’s all right with me.

Maybe “not caring” sounds like a bad attitude, but sometimes where creativity is concerned that may be the best approach we can take. It’s certainly a lot more enjoyable to paint without a care in the world instead of nervously worrying about every single stroke. I don’t have to worry about “ruining” a bad painting, so I can just laugh and do the best I can with what I’ve got.