the case of the fallen

This one should have been easy. A purely technical painting, not much in a way of extra design, composition or colour interpretation. Still, I like to be sure the whole thing works when I'm done. As my current studio is teeny tiny for the scale of works in process, I often take a completed painting and place it high on the fireplace mantel on the main floor. I can then step back 15 feet and take the whole thing in in an entirely different view. Flowers that looked bold on the easel suddenly appear as timid little suggestion marks. And so on.

Yesterday, I propped "I Prefer Natural" up in this usual way. I turned my back and heard a crash. Besides being startled by the big bang and spitting out my tea, my mind immediately went: "Shit! There goes a week's worth of sweat!", quickly followed by "Shit shit! All the little paintings on the ground below are likely ruined too."

Once my heart slowed down, I picked up the big piece. Not a mark on it. Like a stupid move to jump off something that should break your legs but doesn't, it ended just fine. I was shaken and stirred. Ok, the little guys. The resin should've shattered, gouge marks should've covered them, a hole here and there would not be unexpected. Well. Someone is watching over me. Every single painting is alive and well. I have been chanting to Ganesha these past few mornings. Kind of prepping my day, planning tasks and asking for success and protection. Interesting.

My point? When you're most busy, slow down. It may seem counterintuitive, but, at least in my experience, it pays off.

Nikol Haskova Studio