I have yet to find my voice. Not sure what to say. Timid. Even though I know no-one may ever see my blog or even bother to read it.
My current work is mainly B&W, small, pencil, repetitive, scribbly. Direct from the inner world/imagination with little judgement or conscious thought. I try to let the images emerge from the paper with as little intervention as possible. This takes the emphasis off producing an image which will be assessed by others – so many years spent pleasing others to earn a living.
Now I now have complete freedom to be imperfect, incoherent, unstructured, messy. I find it scary too as I cannot hide my self when using my own words and images. This leaves me open to my critical super-ego. How much do I want to reveal? Is there anything to reveal? Have I anything of value to reveal? The small drawings alleviate everyday anxiety, the larger ones exaggerate it and so confront me. They almost seem empty when enlarged and I feel a need to elaborate on them, filling up the ’empty’ spaces with more ‘stuff’, unable to leave them to be.
Every so often I take a drawing and try to translate it into colour, working tonally. I recognise I am a tonalist by nature though I would like to think I don’t see the world in B&W. But being an INFJ all I can do is be aware of my judgemental thinking and try to catch it before it escalates. Still not confident with colour after all these years of teaching it and working with it. Am familiar with the theory but still choose colours like a designer. I don’t stumble across them or create them within the process.
The image below is an old collage using photos from a pile of 60s gardening magazines. There were quite a few of these at the time using ‘found’ colour.