Monday, June 18, 2007

Tempus, Fuck It

After all these years, you'd think that I'd get it: an artwork takes as long as it needs for it to be done.
Too often, I become impatient when a piece doesn't flow quickly from my imagination to reality. I think that I'm being stupid – or worse, that the idea is flawed. I get frustrated when it feels like I'm having to drag it out of myself, inch by inch. There's a point where I want to get rid of the work, to destroy it, so I can get on to the next one. In the past, I would. Nowadays, my boyfriend stops me.
Without exception, the hardest works turn out to be among my best. Somehow they absorb the effort and the hours that go into them and acquire more layers of meaning and emotional complexity. How this happens is still a mystery to me. I just have to learn to let each one have the time they need.

3 comments:

edith rey said...

Beauty!

jennie Rosenbaum said...

I have the same problems, I know what I want and I want it now! My husband has to step in to protect my works as well. I think the passion and fury that goes into creating these works ends up infused in the piece making it better that it might have been. what is hard is to recognize that and not throw it away!

Mike Wood said...

I think it could be equally said that other people don't get how long it takes. In the instant coffee, microwaved, digital cell phone pics world, everyone assumes that they can have it now. Thats why I would fail as a commercial photographer. I take my time after shooting. Explore what and how I want to edit an image. Then get real anal doing it. It is time few care to wait. I have even had people call me even before I am back at home asking if they can see the images...

The more you put into your work, your art, the more comes out of it. Mysterious as it is, it's the truth.