a portrait of the artist as a young girl
its amazing, how things can change. this is what i love about life, and why, even in the deepest sadness, i don't want to let go. i want to know what happens next.
i want to know what's going to happen next in the world, in the people around me, in my own life and especially in myself. i was sifting through art books at barnes and nobles today when i realized how much i love it. it crept up on me unexpectedly, until now i cannot wait to get back to campus so i can try to attempt my own Mona Lisa: painting campus. i want to capture it somehow, with my own horrible inexperienced abilities, capture my beautiful campus on canvas, the soaring arches and curves, the beautiful red and cream brick buildings.
there's something soothing about the sound the bristles make as they brush against the canvas, how the shapes start to emerge on the composition, how somehow blobs of color form into distinct images. it must be how giving birth is like: creating something new out of nothing, out of ordinary raw materials.
its so strange to see everything as if i'm seeing them for the first time: the way the light hits something to make shadows, what colors are present, and what basic shapes something is made of. a simple apple is not just red, but umber, green, white, ochre, yellow, crimson and violet. each petal on a yellow sunflower has its own gradation of shade and light, its own special mixture of cadmium yellow, three or four different browns, oranges and white. hours can be spent mixing the right colors to paint a single green leaf, surprisingly one of the most difficult objects to paint.
my dream is to be able to somehow capture, not just still lifes, buildings or landscapes but most of all, people. to paint someone's face so well that you could see their expression and somehow, as if they're looking right at you, know exactly what they're thinking.
i want to know what's going to happen next in the world, in the people around me, in my own life and especially in myself. i was sifting through art books at barnes and nobles today when i realized how much i love it. it crept up on me unexpectedly, until now i cannot wait to get back to campus so i can try to attempt my own Mona Lisa: painting campus. i want to capture it somehow, with my own horrible inexperienced abilities, capture my beautiful campus on canvas, the soaring arches and curves, the beautiful red and cream brick buildings.
there's something soothing about the sound the bristles make as they brush against the canvas, how the shapes start to emerge on the composition, how somehow blobs of color form into distinct images. it must be how giving birth is like: creating something new out of nothing, out of ordinary raw materials.
its so strange to see everything as if i'm seeing them for the first time: the way the light hits something to make shadows, what colors are present, and what basic shapes something is made of. a simple apple is not just red, but umber, green, white, ochre, yellow, crimson and violet. each petal on a yellow sunflower has its own gradation of shade and light, its own special mixture of cadmium yellow, three or four different browns, oranges and white. hours can be spent mixing the right colors to paint a single green leaf, surprisingly one of the most difficult objects to paint.
my dream is to be able to somehow capture, not just still lifes, buildings or landscapes but most of all, people. to paint someone's face so well that you could see their expression and somehow, as if they're looking right at you, know exactly what they're thinking.