I refuse to find my personal style. Jane mentioned this. Find your own style, and you become convinced that must be how you create art, you begin to copy yourself, and all your creative energy drains away in the face of your need to conform to your own skill set...or so you believe. I revel in my competitiveness, and my inability to attain satisfaction. I am developing the ability to know when to stop, to know when a picture is good enough - that is, when, despite my own continuing frustrations, I can know the rest of the world will find my art adequate. However, I have no desire to suppress my competitive instincts to the point that my ego bloats, and I can no longer learn from my colleagues. I stare at Chris' gorgeous landscape, and immediately the painting which, only a second ago, I had been quite proud of, becomes a kindergarten project, not even worthy of attention. Almost instantly, my self-preserving psyche kicks in, reminding me that he thought my painting was beautiful, and that my belief in his superiority is nothing more than a chance to learn. I'll see Jules' tomato, and wonder at the insufficiency of my own pomegranate, before remembering that she loves her tomato no more, or even less, than I love my pomegranate, and I look at her painting with new eyes, analyzing her skills to see what I can learn from her, what I can draw from her experience and personal techniques. Not a single one of my paintings looks like the other, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
If they ever make an art book of my work, only the signature will tie the pieces together.
And even that changes day to day.
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