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When too much is too much

The last few weeks, while I’ve been waiting for the canvas I ordered to come in, I’ve been reworking paintings, some old (five years), some not so old (recent). It’s been an interesting, even educational experience. I have wanted to make them be the same as the ones I’ve started recently. Sometimes I’ve come close, even made them say things I hadn’t realized they needed when I first did them. That’s been good.  But it has been getting tedious, waiting to start something fresh.

I usually work and rework paintings until I am satisfied I can do nothing more.  Often it is rewarding, eventually.  But I’ve come not to like a heavy buildup of paint.  Sunday I did something I haven’t done in several years:  I took some paintings off their stretchers.  It was sad, seeing them lying on the floor, their stretchers empty so I retired them to the waste bin.  I quickly found two small pieces of canvas large enough to fit the 30″ x 30″ stretchers and got to work on them.  Somehow my enthusiasm must have been a bit much because ultimately I sprained my wrist in the process.  And who said painting is not work!


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