Recently I got some disturbing news … unexpected and personal … anyway the details are unimportant. And the second the truth of it hit me, I threw up …. literally. First time that’s ever happened. My loved ones understand this reaction in context: I may be a handful (as my mother says), but I aways keep my dinner down.
Here’s the amazing thing: the whole time I was convulsing, I heard one thing over and over — ‘this is one of the greatest gifts of your life’. Now with some distance, I understand the profound truth of that message. Time to face the beast within.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve always heard an inner voice. As a child I heard it audibly; now it just comes through as a thought … one from outside … generally in conflict with whatever I was actually “thinking” at the time. My talent, like a runaway horse, always scares me, but the voice never does. And I ALWAYS listen.
In the studio I let go of reality … fully surrender … and the voice takes over. It bypasses my conscious mind entirely, going right to muscle memory. That’s particularly true with portraits, when it’s essential to leave the self behind. In the early days of painting I would dip in and out of that zone. As I progressed, I transcended more and more. For me the real difficulty of painting is to stay in that unknowable place … because when you come out, it is the beast you hear.
I remember the first painting done completely in the zone … it was very early, a self portrait, almost two decades ago. When I look at it now, I know the voice is magic … I’m honestly not sure I could paint this well again, even today.
