I took only a short break at home so that I could come back to Boston early and work on a couple of paintings. There is a competition that I would like to enter on the 31st, so I am desperately trying to finish up a last painting for it. Whenever I enter these competitions I feel so out of place with my work. I feel self conscious and uncertain of myself. Self deprecating. Sometimes I feel like combining photography, painting, writing, journaling, and even some psychology together is incredibly innovative. Sometimes I feel like I have spread myself so thin that I can’t excel and it’s tiring to write artist statements.
I am right now so happy at Roca. I am doing a bit of everything I love, but I also know that once the Hine Fellowship is over I will have to fight for a way to combine my interests once again. When I think back to my favorite college professors, the ones that were most inspiring were always the ones that had broad interests. I had a couple of professors who pursued many different interests within a field. I had many other professors had extremely limited interests (I can’t imagine devoting my life to a topic such as best friend relationships between same sex dyads in a controlled environment.) I hope that I will find some way to combine my interests like some of those professors did. On good days I’m convinced that there is a way.
This painting I’m working on right now is all consuming and emotionally draining. It seems with painting there are some paintings that just flow and others that creak along slowly and painfully. The mistakes are so visible, so unavoidable. I can’t be in the same room with the painting right now, parts of it are so bothersome that I can only stop working on it by avoiding it all together.
Doug Martinson, my figure painting professor in college, told me before I graduated that I should only date artists who weren’t painters. He had found true love in a dancer and said that only another artist could understand the torment of a failing painting. He also was certain that dating a painter would drive me into competitive insanity. I think about this sometimes when I’m in the bedroom painting with the door closed and Eli is in the living room editing his photos or working on a website. It’s worked living with Eli because he understands that on a painting day I probably will not leave the house, eat at a normal hour, clean up the house, and I may have to open a bottle of wine if things aren’t going well. I think Doug’s advice was good advice.



