Deadlines

I spend a disproportionate amount of time thinking about what I’m going to do. I’m not talking about planning mind you. It’s more like throwing ideas around in my head and hoping some of them land.

“Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time,’ is to say, ‘I don’t want to.” – Lao Tzu

Some ideas become paintings, but most continue swirling about in the busy ether of my subconscious.

What makes an idea real is a deadline. Placing some kind of marker out in front of my creative process is the only way to get my work finished.  I used to procrastinate quite a bit. I don’t even call it procrastination anymore. I like to hold it up as part of my process.  I like to give myself as much room as I can around an idea.  But what about all of those unfinished paintings that keep stacking up? For me, this is where the deadline becomes invaluable. Without a deadline, my work is never done.

Creating a hard date for an open studio or gallery show puts my feet to the fire. My time management solution is to lie to myself.  Rather than putting the real deadline on the wall, I come up with a date a couple of weeks early.  Nothing too clean, maybe 11 days, something that’s hard to keep track of. I pin this number to the wall and look at it every day. After several months, it becomes the deadline. It’s just like setting my clock. A little fast.

8paint Inspiration Fridays Deadlines Studio Implosion

My studio tends to implode when I’m working toward a show.

Creativity isn’t linear. Learning isn’t linear. Half of the lines I draw aren’t even very linear.  When we’re embroiled in our creative work, we need to give ourselves room to experiment and allow time for things to gel. A deadline can just start with a title. When I give my deadline a name it helps me to rain the ideas in and begin moving in a specific direction with the work. “I’m working on a show called Infinity.” You can design a show without having a place to put it, but once you decide that the world is going to see it, a new level of accountability kicks in.

I regularly end up spending more time painting in the studio in the final couple of weeks before my deadline than I do in the two months prior. Deadlines force us to make decisions, and they sharpen who we are as artists. You might try giving yourself exactly an hour and a half to paint in the studio. Get going! You know there is something in life that will inevitably drag you away. Take every minute! Even these kind of short-term deadlines makes the work more finite. If we only have an hour and a half, we had better start painting.

8paint Inspiration Fridays Deadlines

Painting and drawing from life is a great way to stay honest about time.
Nothing says “move” like a model holding a pose for you.

What can you do in 50 minutes?

How do you handle your deadlines?

How do you get it done?

Can your painting teach you something?

Inspiration to paint lives in everything. The world around me, the life I aspire to live, and even the parts of myself I would rather forget. My best works respond to the reality in front of me – my world of now. This is the work that has its own pulse.

“The painter has the Universe in his mind and hands.” – Leonardo da Vinci.

I dig around in my psyche for the story. And wait for it to unfold on the canvas. The painting process unearths buried parts of myself. My subconscious is reflected back in my artwork.

Sometimes it takes years for the story to make sense. I don’t always have the luxury of perspective in the moment. These creations provide insight into who I was at the time of painting, and how I felt about the world.

 

8paint Blog - Inspiration Fridays The Siren - 48' x 48' - Oil on Linen

The Siren – 48′ x 48′ – Oil on Linen

Our paintings are a personal blend of ideas and elements. We get to create a new world for others to explore. It feels vulnerable but once the painting leaves our nest, there’s no ‘incorrect’ interpretation. The brilliance lies in the viewer’s ability to construct meaning.

The narrative revealed in a painting is as varied in meaning as the people standing in front of it. Even the smallest shift in placement or scale can alter the viewer’s perception. It’s this shared experience and transformative potential that makes painting exhilarating.

Experimentation is key. Try mixing in characters from old sketches or photographs. Consider the impact of a change in setting. Get inspired by magazines or movies, and feel free to fill your wall with print-outs of your favorite stills.

Painting is a refuge from the mundane and also a celebration of its beauty. Revel in your sorted tales and delicate romances! Create your world, and remember there are no boundaries in art.

Ready to share your visual story?

Have your artworks revealed something about you?

What messages do you hope to convey through your paintings?

Can your painting teach you something?

Have you thanked your paintings for showing up?

Painting can feel as easy as breathing. But first, we have to let go.

“The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

When I decided to become a painter, I dove in and fully committed to the idea of mastery. Hours of sketching and drawing evolved into labored painting after painting. The work wasn’t any good, but the process was thrilling. I could tell I was getting better. That feeling of progress was enough to sustain my enthusiasm.

I had learned so much. But painting is truly infinite. I tried balancing everything I knew about painting like spinning plates, keeping each new idea in play. I checked value, color, and composition, and then rechecked. This tenuous dance would more often than not end in a muddled canvas full of longing and finished in frustration. But the real crash never arrived. Even my worst painting inspired a feeling of achievement. I showed up. That counts!

Sometimes it all came together. I would feel that ineffable flood of dopamine that shows up like a surprise. “How did I get here?”
and then…
“I’ve arrived!!”
In these moments every brushstroke lands. Time stops. It’s just me, the model, the brush, and the paint. I don’t check the work to see if it’s any good. I just paint. The colors fall where they will. They just are. It’s the culmination of everything I’ve learned and experienced up until this point. It’s breathing on its own.

During these ecstatic and precarious moments of celebration, all memories of frustration and failure are washed out to sea. I’ve landed it. It’s worth it after all.

And then the waters recede and I’m back to me. But something is different. And I have a painting to prove it.

 

Inspiration Fridays -  Have you thanked your paintings for showing up? By Gabriel Mark Lipper Acrylic Vinyl on Paper Board

I painted this study of my friend Megan in three 20-minute sessions with 5-minute breaks in the middle. Acrylic Vinyl on paper board. I’ve always loved it.

So where do these high water marks come from? How can we achieve effortlessness? This confidence emerges when we allow ourselves to trust, but that’s easier said than done.

It’s the paintings and drawings that didn’t land, the bad color choices, and paintings without any composition at all that will teach us that we really have nothing to fear.

Harnessing the power of intuition infuses our artwork with emotion, transforming the way we and others perceive it. Art isn’t just about mimicking our surroundings, but diving deeper, and to do this, we need to be fully immersed in the moment. This is when the true essence of our painting starts to emerge.

The key is to embrace what feels right in your work and strive to express your feelings through it. The only way to discover what that is, is to allow yourself the gift of getting it wrong. Why not try painting something that reflects how you feel, instead of aiming for perfection?

Give this approach a try. Paint for 15 minutes without reflecting on whether or not you are doing it right. Try it this week! See what your art can teach you about yourself.

Have you tried doing it wrong?

Have you been surprised when it came out right?

Have you thanked your paintings for showing up?