I often feel sad to a suicidal degree, but unlike van Gogh I'll never harm meyself. The universe will do that to me, and all of us, soon enough, and such agonies should be extended, so our cells must be taken care of with the best foods, exercise, care.
I dream of walking with Deb, outside at night. It's so dark that we can't see a thing, total blackness, feeling our way along a roadside path. Then, things slowly brighten and we follow a moonlit outline of a pathway. We walked, with a few others, along some grassy paths, then onto a wider plain. The sky was revealed and was amazingly beautiful; dark, deep blue a the top fading down to a bright turquoise at the mountain horizon. I gazed in awe at this as Deb continued to walk. Then, dawn, and the mountains before me were so beautiful. I asked Deb for her phone to take a panoramic photo of it. She handed me her phone and walked on with the others rather than stop with me, she seemed to care less than I about the view. I stood and took a panoramic photo, imperfect, but I felt I hadn't the time to take a better one. I was now in a vast airport or shopping centre, the mountain view beyond glass walls. Deb and my companions were gone.
I've spent today painting the new (third) Love is Dead miniature.
The underpainting was relatively easy. With miniatures it's exactly like working on a larger painting but on smaller scale, so smaller and softer brushes with thinner bristles but of the same shape as the bigger cousins. One hard part is adding enough paint. It's tempting to add too little. This was painted more successfully than the other two, I was chromatically prepared. See, at the end, how purple the dark background looks, but it's grey, an illusion due to the yellow flesh. After painting I realised that I'd stupidly painted it upside down! The panel was custom sized and cut exactly for the frame but will now need trimming to fit.
Perhaps only one glazing layer is needed for this. The quality of the underpaint is sufficient that transparent glazes from now on will suffice.
What is this 'for'? I wondered about entering a miniature society exhibition, but what hope have I there. Whatever I do, I am inspired and motivated with my art this year. My recent focus has been on music, but even before then, I'd stopped pushing to be the best I can, stopped active analysis to improve in painting, push. 2023 feels like a renaissance year for me like 2012 was, and perhaps for similar reasons, emergence from darkness. I still have energy, but few resources, no princely patrons or supporters.
I'm still listening to the Beethoven 'Composer of the Week' specials from 2020. I still feel a great affinity with Herr B., but am reminded that Crewe is no Vienna, far even from an 18th c. Bonn. We have almost no culture here, no society. After 50 years I know nobody here but Deb, and have no social connections or affinity with anyone or what might be called local culture.
