Stage 1 (No photograph because I'm just too eager and excited...)
I'm going to paint a nest. Putty/sepia palette with robin's egg blue. "It's going to be fabulous!" I say.
Stage 2 (No photograph because the painting is looking terrible.)
What I envision is not translating well to the canvas. What a mess. Hubby mistakes it for a whirlpool. The kids raise their eyebrows. "I can't paint!" I complain.
Stage 3 (No photograph because I completely paint over significant portions of the painting.)
Sigh. The only way to erase in acrylic is to paint over. I reformulate paint mixtures, and pick up different sized brushes. How do birds make such a lovely mess! Ahh. every straw and twig is unique. I start again. "No pain, no gain." I whimper.
Stage 4 (No photograph because I'm just too eager and excited to see something wonderful emerge.)
Focusing on the overall feel rather than any individual spot, I start drawing out the light and shadows. I've got one brush in my mouth, one in each hand. "Hey! I can paint!" I exclaim.
Finally, I'm connected. Creator with the creation. Hubby knows it's a nest. The kids stay and admire. I like. I love. "Do I have to give/sell it? Can't I just keep it? It looks so good in our house."
That's how I know I'm done....because I don't want to part with it.
But I do. And that's how I know I still enjoy making art.