The dilemma between surfaces and line
First of all, I wanted to apologize for the emails I sent you by mistake. I started to use automation for my newsletter and I had several problems with it. It costed me a few subscribers. Thank you for staying with me despite my flaws. I hope I finally succeeded to master Mail chimp. For now on, you are suppose to receive an email a week only. Please, let me know if you have any problem and I will try to fix it.
After this introduction, lets begin with the real subject of this email.
When I began to learn painting I had the feeling that I didn't see exactly like the “others" saw. It seemed I had difficulty to see surfaces and was incline to see lines instead. It was a vague feeling and I didn't ask anyone about it. Anyway, if I wasn't exactly like "the others", there was no doubt I had a flaw which I should correct.
First of all, who exactly were these "others". Some gifted human beings perfectly well equipped to become artists? While I write this sentence I realize how much it is wrong.
Van Gogh suffered from epilepsy and manic depression, and was treated with digitalis. Patients over-medicated with digitalis can develop yellow vision or see rings of light. He also enjoyed absinthe to excess: a drink with side effects which also include “yellow vision.” Should he have access to modern medecine, he might not have produce paintings with vivid yellow hues and swirling orbs of stars in the night sky.
Camille Pissaro suffered from dacryocystitis, an inflammation of the lacrymal canal. At some point, he had to move from the country side to Paris: he couldn’t stand bright light, had to stay most of the time indoor, and had to paint in the morning and the evening only. During this period, he painted his famous paintings of Paris Boulevards. He worked from the window of his apartment: it was quite revolutionary. At this time, the paintings were always at street level.
In these two cases, the vision pathology had probably affected their style and their productivity, but the artists nevertheless produced masterpieces.
On the other end, the cataract that impaired Monet and Degas vision, also impaired their ability to paint.
I don’t see very well (I do need glasses), but I don’t have anything serious (for now). My “difference” lies more in my head than in my eyes, I think.
And at some point, I decided to use it instead to try to overcome it. At about the same time, my mother was treated for a cancer and I had to spend a lot of time in hospitals and waiting rooms. That’s were I began the lines paintings I’m doing these days.
I suppose it’s ok to aim for improvement. But we also need to keep in mind that what the “others” may not be better than us, only different. And sometimes, to make better use of what we already have is a big improvement. Am I clear?
In few words, lets try to appreciate what we are and have and to learn how to use it for the best!