In keeping with the new found spirit of the Icelandic people (bliss post) I am finding more freedom when it comes to my own relationship with art. Not a lot, but more. The last few days have been spent eyeing pieces that were never as good as they could get in my mind. The Warrior is one. You have no idea how exciting and difficult and scary that piece was to make. It was even exhibited briefly at the gallery. When I look at it I see a piece that says much about my journey with puzzle pieces, yet I also see what could have been. What was for a brief moment. I had painted a black eye mask, trying to replicate some sort of tribal warrior and it instead looked as if he had been scorched by fire. It traumatized me when I thought I had ruined three months of gluing puzzle pieces to make him. I also see he needs more done on the mouth area. Something in me no longer cares if I ruin it. Freedom I hope.
Another piece, Cocoon, has been dismantled for a touch up. The learning curve is a steep one. I can look down at some of my first works and see how far I have come technically. I was thrilled I got this together but in retrospect I know it isn't as professionally put together as it could be on the backside. That puzzle bauble was way ahead of my abilities and it hasn't stood the technical test of time. So I took it off, started doing what I felt I needed to do and accidentally got a good chunk of puzzle stuff in the way of my grinder which sent chunks of puzzle pieces flying.....and after a brief moment of anguish, shrugged it off and realized I would just figure out how to make it all work.
I finished a clock yesterday, it too seemed great but like a dysmorphic beautiful woman who sees things she feels are hideous about herself that no one else notices, I saw things that I didn't like. Things that stood out that Tod didn't seem to mind at all. All my hours of trying to match paint color to the bauble and paint layer after layer to get just the right look were finally aborted. I slathered on molding paste to cover the defect that I couldn't stop seeing (and hence all the paint had to be removed and I will start over with paint matching). Freedom. It isn't about trying to make something perfect as much as the Freedom in not being attached and Freedom to find out what else I can do. Freedom to fail. Freedom to flail. Freedom to play and explore. I'm not quite as free as I make out to be just yet, but it is flowing like a breeze and the storm door is open.