I was up late last night coaxing this piece along, painting over the old image with layers of gesso and acrylic paint.
I played with shapes, textures and patterns until I was pleased with the look of the interconnected threads on the infants' blankets and within the womb formed by the negative space of the figure's arms.
Eventually I got the figure's hair on the right track (or is that the left track?) and now I'm painting out the tiny threads on the dress of the original figure and blocking in the community on her apron.
Sadly, I had to take a break to work my shift at the SAGA gift shop. I hated to leave the painting - when I'm on a roll in the studio and have to break, I feel a sense of unease akin to what one might feel leaving the baby in the bathtub to pick up a ringing phone. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but when I'm painting, the canvas becomes my baby.
1 comment:
Good to see that you, too, are back in the saddle. And I know that uneasy feeling well!
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