I started my final painting for my painting class a couple of weeks ago. It was based off of a photo found at a mercantile of a few friends on bicycles who were roaming somewhere in England on a day off from the Navy during WWII. I desperately want this to be a good painting, because it's something I'd like to keep. Unfortunately, time has not been on my side, and the painting has been saved for another time to complete when I have more than a few days to put the work into it that I would like to so that it is what I hope it will be.
Instead, I started a completely new painting today... an abstract painting. Abstracts put the fear of God in me, I can tell you as they never seem to come out the way I want them to. Perhaps it's the pressure the instructors put on me, or perhaps they just aren't my forte, but they never seem to come together for me. So, when I started today, I was already a bit scared from the get go. I had a loose plan, but I told myself it was okay to revise as I went along. Forgive the horrid quality of the photos, as they were taken with a crappy camera phone, but I think the idea comes across that my mood shifted dramatically while working on this.