Thursdays are 'mornings only' – welcome in many ways – but the morning whizzed past as I worked on four more poppyhead monoprints. I'll have a look at them when I get in tomorrow, but first impressions are that none of them quite cut it, despite (or perhaps because of) my determined working and reworking of the plate.
I just don't draw in my practice!
So why am I drawing on plates?
Is it all right to have a go at something just for the challenge – even fun – of it when you have a solo exhibition to put up, three weeks today?
Is my ineptitude endearing? Is something being expressed in the hand made image that is not apparent in a photograph? Is it significant that I put so much concentration into the work; so much of myself?
Maybe the value of the exercise has been in kicking me out of my comfort zone. On the other hand, surely it's OK to know where your strengths lie and work to them, rather than insisting on humiliation because you, as an artist, should be able to turn your hand to anything?
I can't decide.
