All In – Finding Uncommon Inspiration
This week, I share my biggest painting so far, and talk about computer games and all the things that should not inspire but that do!
Here’s the last painting of the series that I have been working on this year. It’s called “All In.” The Finnish translation “Kaikki peliin” is perhaps even more suitable because there’s the word “peli” – the game. In this painting, I made every element look like it moves – like in a computer game!
I Am Not a Gamer
No, I am not! Actually, I am the last person who should be talking about computer games because I don’t play them at all. But I have seen some commercials on television and Youtube, and they make my heart beat faster – that’s the tribe where I belong! Despite I hate seeing violence, and don’t usually even watch action movies. Action upsets me. In general, I prefer everything cute and pretty.
My Imagination Loves Games
But when I paint, I am not just an artist with all kinds of brushes and tubes. I become a nerd who tries to find the fastest processor and the best graphics driver for rendering 3D from her brain. It no longer matters what kind of art I should create and how art should be created. I change to a guy who moves from one level to the next, always seeking more monsters, more excitement, more points.
Because I don’t play the games, I should not even know how it is like. Yet, I feel I do. Namely, in my twenties, I chose computers over art. I felt I belonged to the world of introverts who built systems – worlds of their own. And now, when I paint, my paintings bring me back to the same setting – how to build a world that operates like a fast-moving game, with many layers and levels.
This is not what I would have expected. If someone said to me: “Hey Paivi, you should paint game sceneries. Make your own games!” I am pretty certain that a couple of years ago my answer would have been: “You must be kidding. I am a feminine romantic who hates that stuff!”
The Adventure for Uncommon Inspiration
But art is an adventure. It’s not only a journey to a variety of techniques and skills but also an exploration that includes the darkest corners of your mind.
In 1980s, I was a girl who sat in a local library on hot summer days, browsing big books of old art. My dream was to become an artist, but knowing that it would not be safe or easy, I said I wanted to be an English teacher. Between the art books of the library, I saw young boys browsing computer magazines. I went to the shelf after them and knew that I also belonged there – to that group of nerds. And when I saw a computer for the first time, my heart beat fast like for the best painting of a museum.
Making a series of paintings has been quiet and hard work. I have had lots of self-doubts and melancholic moments between the sessions. But when I paint, it’s all good. My paintings say: “Tell me what you want and we will give it to you!” And often, I don’t know what to reply, but they seem to know anyway. Like I never told them how nerd I am, but they shamelessly reveal everything and apologize for nothing.
We talk a lot about being unique as artists, but what about if a part of the solution is just to find inspiration that feels uncommon to us. It could be something that we try to get rid of but never seem to manage to do. Or something that we find appalling but still strangely captivating.
What could be your uncommon inspiration? Could the art that you create be a little different from the art that you like to consume? What do you think?
Mystical Side of Art(ist) in Progress
This week, I show an unfinished painting and talk about the mystical side of nature and art.
I have a big painting in progress. At least it’s the biggest one that I have ever made – 92 x 65 cm, about 36 x 26 inches. It’s an oil painting, and it takes time because it needs to dry between the sessions. The pics you see here are from the third session, and there’s at least one, maybe even two, to go. But this is the last piece of the series, so I don’t want to rush. The painting needs time to mature, and I want to end the series gloriously.
I don’t usually post about a piece that I haven’t finished yet. It’s like presenting an uneducated child that doesn’t quite know how to behave. But the more perfectly my art has aligned with my personality, the more I have started to embrace imperfection. My art will always be imperfect because I am imperfect. Life is imperfect.
Rational or Mystical?
My education in software engineering has shaped my beliefs about life for tens of years. But recently, I have had experiences that feel less scientific and more mystical.
My paintings seem to know how they want to grow, and my ego disappears.
One Mystical Morning
One morning, when I was walking the dog, I saw a miraculous view. It was meant to be just an experiment. I asked myself to look at nature like I would look at a painting in progress. And suddenly, I saw everything in a new order – not organized by a hierarchy or by their aesthetic value. Gravel, weed, grass, dandelions, trees – all were equal and formed one mysterious mesh.
I was part of that mesh too. Not any more valuable than a crooked stem of a dandelion, but still tremendously happy and free.
Every Stroke is a Weed – For How Long Can It Grow?
We art instructors talk often about visual hierarchy – there’s a lot of that in my classes too! The image needs a focal point, and there needs to be a visual flow in a composition. Otherwise, the image looks stiff and the viewer is left puzzled. But the more I have painted, the more I have postponed all that visual organization. That’s why you see me working on the table mostly, focusing on the details.
When the painting is in progress, it grows all kinds of weeds, and it’s ok. Then, when I am close to an end, I will put the painting on the easel and improve the visual hierarchy and flow.
So, I let the child play freely first before teaching it to greet, bend the knees a bit, and make the viewer feel welcome. Before the last part, I can just enjoy the mesh and let the artist be one with the child.
What do you think? Does this make sense to you? Have you had mystical experiences?
Artist’s Wishes and How Art Answers to Them
This week, I share a new painting and talk about artist’s wishes and goal-setting, but also about relaxation and self-listening.
Restless Heart
During the past few weeks, spring has changed to summer in Finland. More colors have appeared in the garden, and there’s a color burst on canvas too. “For the readers of my blog,” I thought. “They love pinks, reds, and turquoises!”
Painting a Series and Learning to Breathe
This spring, I have had an ambitious goal of painting a series of 9 canvases in oil, and I am coming to an end. There will be only one more after this piece.
When I started the series, I entered a crossroads, and it was hard to see into the future. But after spending a lot of time in the studio and taking long walks, I have learned to breathe in a new way. Instead of exhaling only, I have learned to inhale too.
My focus has been more on receiving, not so much on producing. This change of direction has given me new motivation for life.
A Beast Called Creativity – Or Is It a Pet?
For years, I was afraid of dying before I learn to paint. I have no children, and I wanted to create an artwork that would continue its life after I am gone. But now, I realize that my dream of leaving a legacy was improperly put. It defined the success that depended on other people. But creativity is a wild beast that doesn’t understand money, prestige, or hierarchy. It’s like my dog Stella. She loves me no matter what my title is. And she always tries her best to do what I want from her.
I don’t think that the incapability to define my goal is unusual. Isn’t it so that often when we want to pursue art, we point to someone else’s work and say: “That’s how I want to paint, that’s who I want to be.”
Paul Cezanne and the Art of Wishing
On these warm and sunny days, I have been pondering why I paint, how I paint, and why it suddenly feels so good. “Take the painting outside, Paivi,” I heard a whisper. “Is this about Cezanne?” I asked.
Paul Cezanne (1839-1906), a french impressionist, has said: “When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God-made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art.” I have found this definition distressing and demanding but also practical. I have used it many times to check if the painting is finished or not.
Cezanne or not, I followed my inner voice and took the painting out several times. First, I had stress about insects and other flying objects. But then I heard my inner voice answering the question – why my paintings are full of movement and why I always want to add some uncontrolled restlessness.
The answer is: The liveliness is the level of immortality that my creativity can produce.
My images express the eternal life that I have yearned for!
Artist’s Wishes – A New Door
Now I see a new door. I can ask anything, and my creativity will do it for me. The only reservation is that the answer may be unexpected.
You, too, have this door. And you, too, have a restless heart that tries to understand your wishes.
Artist’s Wishes – What Do You Think?
What do you think? How does your art match with your wishes? I am always looking forward to reading your comments!
Expressing Inner Storms by Painting
This post is dedicated to all who have lost their creative inspiration during these challenging times when outer storms cause inner storms too.
I have always loved art that uplifts and is more on the bright side of fantasy than in the darkness. I have defined myself as an artist who does not express agony or suffering or bring out what’s wrong in society. My art has based on the possibilities of imagination. It’s about the richness of the inner world. “Spiritual freedom” has been my word.
But the longer I have painted, the more courageous I have become. How flowery do my paintings have to be? To free up my art and to free up my thinking as well, I have begun to accept all kinds of shapes, colors, and emotions. The same flowers that bloom in my watercolor pieces become little monsters when I paint more freely in oil. It’s like there’s a new world under the inner world I only used to know.
Painting Inner Storms
At the end of January, I started a new big painting. It had dark colors, but I intended to brighten it. “When the time is right, I will make it more cheerful,” I promised to myself. Weeks went by, and it always felt like I had something more important to do. I didn’t have the energy, or I had too much energy. The more I postponed the finishing, the moody I became. “This pandemic gets to my nerves,” I said to my husband.
But when my spirit got more and more low, I had to do something. One night I picked paints and brushes, abandoned all the happy stuff I was creating and continued the painting. The brushes felt heavy at first. The paint tubes were like stones. But then I remembered the magic words: “Päivi, you can paint!” This confidence, even if it always feels false first, energizes my strokes and thoughts. The painting begins to speak to me, and my responses become more and more natural.
This Too Shall Pass
“What are you painting, Päivi,” I heard my inner critic saying after a while. “The piece is still very dark.” My immediate answer was: “Yes, it’s dark, but this too shall pass.” At that moment, I knew the name of the painting and why it should not be forced to look more cheerful. Inner storms can be as beautiful as the happy moments and little monsters as clever as any flower.
When I woke up the following morning, my mind was calm and still. And when I look at the painting, it gives me hope no matter how stormy and gloomy it seems.
Here are some detail pics.
Here’s the whole painting again.
Sometimes the lack of inspiration is a sign of not letting out what needs do so.
Have a creative Easter!
P.S. My abstract painting class Floral Freedom is now available as a self-study. Watch the video below!
My free painting style is based on Paul Klee’s and Wassily Kandinsky’s timeless teachings presented in this class. >> Buy here!