Just last night, I finally finished the shirt Scott (I named him after a similarly bald friend of mine) is wearing. The original concept was--yes--a red Hawaiian shirt, which would add a Hopper-esque touch of humor, considering the rather sober scene. But various opinions made me doubt myself...so it became a white t-shirt. Then a garrish orange shirt. Back to white. Back to red. And back to white. I think this poor man went through nine "wardrobe changes" before I finally decided I HAD to go with the original concept. An extremely helpful friend shopped at Salvation Army and Goodwill, and then let me photograph her in this pose with not one, not two, but THREE different Hawaiian shirts on. With reference photos in hand, I finished up the shirt last night.
The funny thing is, with other paintings, I'm not nearly as obsessed about the little details. The enormous 6' x 6' canvas I've just started, for instance, is nearly done.....in two days. While good old Scott up there has been on the easel for seven months. I think artists are an odd bunch, who cannot be convinced that their work "is fine! really!" if that little voice in their head tells them otherwise. If we want to obsess about a detail, then God help those that get in the way of THAT.
Maybe life in general is a little like an artist's obsession......if you can just stand back, far enough from the easel, you realize that one little detail may not be worth all that worry. Unless it's the one thing that makes the whole composition sing.
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