Something about a “rough beast” that “slouches towards Bethlehem to be born”, if I remember it correctly. W.B. Yeats’ line comes to mind when I think about the progress of my current picture. It certainly merits the description of a “rough beast”, and I reckon that “slouches” is not a bad description of the manner of its progress. The good news, of course, is that the phrase at least implies forward motion, however shambolical.
I managed to correct the deficiencies in the proportions of the limbs in the figure today, and have begun to insert some detail in colour that will enliven the predominant greys of the whole. At the end of the day’s work, however, it is clear that having sorted out the proportions of the central figure I now need to put in some time on the sense of modelling. At least, with these deficiencies, I have a fairly clear perception of tasks that remain to be addressed. So often it can be the case with a painting that one looks at it, aware that something is amiss, but puzzles over exactly what that might be.
My wife has remained tight-lipped about the project all day, and that means for certain that she still doesn’t like it but is kindly keeping her counsel. Sometimes her silences can be as eloquent as her criticism. To be fair, however, I can’t actually say that I like it at present. I still like the idea, but as T.S. Eliot regretted, “Between the conception/And the creation/Between the emotion/And the response/Falls the shadow”. Actually, I think that I have nearly reached that point in the creative process where I sit in a chair, looking at the object, for a long time …. perhaps for a very long time …. restraining myself from actually doing anything.
Well! That’s a good part of tomorrow taken care of.