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            One of the things that I like to do to relax when I'm not working in the studio, is to go fishing. I also like to watch videos on youtube that are made by amateur fisherman, just showing themselves fishing, usually with a camera attached to their head. One of the posters that I like to watch is this down to earth guy who usually ends each of his videos with a reminder to "fish your way". Fisherman, and fisherwoman, are always looking for the next big thing that's going to help them catch more fish, and artists are kind of like that too. We are always wondering if we should be using better brushes, more expensive paint, etc:

            I have a slogan taped to my easel that says "paint your paintings". It might seem kind of silly to the observer; who else's painting would I be painting? I once read an artist's quote that went something to the effect that when he enters his studio he brings in all of his artist heroes with him. All of the art and artist's that have shaped and influenced his artistic journey. He goes on to say that if he's really having a good day, really in the "now" of his art making process, eventually, one by one, those artists get up and leave the studio, and it's just him and his painting. I often find myself looking at someone else's art and wondering if I should paint tighter, looser, more abstract, larger, do more miniatures, less still life, more portraits, plein air landscapes, the list goes on and on. I have this sneaking suspicion that I'm doing it all wrong, and if I would only come to my senses I would be a much better artist. I mean, I can be as neurotic as a character in an early Woody Allen film. I've gone to bed with a smile on my face thinking, tomorrow's going to be different, I'm going to re-invent myself, and all of this worrying will go away, only to wake up the next day, unsure, and confused.

         Sometimes this neurosis is brought on by being rejected from a juried show. I'll look at the artist's who got in and wonder if I should be more like them. I'll see artist's who I know or have been following, all of a sudden break away from the pack, and get picked up by an important gallery, or win an award in a national show, and wonder "why not me? What am I doing wrong?". The more time you spend in the studio, I'm currently painting full time, the more these demon's, seemingly passed on from Saint Anthony, will pick and claw at the fabric of your being. It is a black hole that unchecked, can lead to artistic paralysis, or the dreaded "artist's block". I've looked down that hole a few times but, so far, I haven't fallen in.

         When I feel myself headed down the dark path of self doubt, the first thing I do is to look at the slogan taped to my easel "Paint Your Paintings". I'm not sure why this works, but it does. It always makes me feel better. I got the idea from seeing the studios of artist's that I admire and that they had slogans taped up in their studios as well. Sometimes a slogan or quote would be placed over the door leading to their studio. This got me to thinking that all artist's go through these periods of self doubt, even those who seem wildly successful in their careers. That means that in order for them to have that success they had to somehow stay the course and not let themselves be derailed by all of the stuff that's in our head when we enter our studios. I realize that I have to take the artistic journey that is mine alone to take. No one can tell me what that direction will be. Not hand rolled brushes from across the water, not finely ground pigments using the formulas handed down from antiquity, not the finest triple primed linen attached to aluminum supports, not the latest video from the top selling artist. I'm pretty grateful for the minor successes that I have had, and really even for the privilege to make art, when so many people are just trying to survive on a daily basis. I guess what I'm saying is that once I clear my head, and I can look at my work objectively, I can see that it's pretty damn good, and if it's going to take a while for the world to catch up with me, that's okay, I'm really enjoying the race. (Most of the time, anyway!)