Bloom True

I took a painting workshop with Flora Bowley at Squam Art Workshops in September. Titled Bloom True, this workshop was as much about freedom, experimentation, and non-judgment as composition and color palette—more so, even. Flora encouraged using lots of paint and a variety of expressive techniques to build layer upon layer on the canvas.

The first few layers were a lot of fun. But, soon, this writer was at sea. At a certain point—about three hours into Day 1—I found I didn’t know how to make a decision about what to do next on the canvas. I had neither the experience nor the technical skill to determine next steps, or even to be aware of my options. It was excruciating. Without words to guide me, I was lost. And, with a painting method meant to be intuitive and feeling-based, thinking my way through just wasn’t possible.

For the next day and a half, I had to grope my way in the dark; carry on through feelings of hopelessness, paralysis, and bitter self-doubt; make choices I was unhappy with; and throw down some radical, last-ditch efforts to change my paintings. All while swearing like a sailor.

It was exactly what I needed. I wanted to travel in new territory. I wanted to be out of my usual headspace. I wanted to tap into unfamiliar parts of my creative self. I wanted to try being expressive in a way that doesn’t involve words.

I got that. And I came away with some paintings that are unlike anything I’ve ever made, and a new creative practice that’s unlike anything else I do.

At left, you can see five stages in the life of a single painting. I have mixed feelings about what now stands as the final version. And to tell the truth, I don’t think it’s the final. But I do love unequivocally what that canvas represents to me: a bold swing out into the darkness, where many moons light my way.