Two days ago I started a still life study. A supposed simple study of a cup and two eggs. No complicated shapes. No intense color changes. Just simple curved gradients. But I got no farther than half done. Frustration took over again. Its not that I found it difficult. Rather I think it came down to my interest (or lack thereof) and typical life distractions. As I lost focus, I also lost the drive to actually just finish painting the subject. I set it aside to perhaps work on it again another day.
Tonight I set up something that will force me to keep attention. Another self-portrait. There's nothing I hate more than painting myself. Staring at this ugly mug and trying to dissemble it into a variety of colors and shapes. All the while picking apart my poor life choices. Its inevitable for me to loathe myself while doing self-portraits. I don't know how Van Gogh or Matisse could stand staring at themselves for so long. Perhaps their self esteem and confidence was far stronger than my own.
Alas ... for now I must stop voluntarily distracting myself with this damn computer and get back to the mirror and pigments. Blech!
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