I had a moment this week. Well a bit more than a moment actually. I looked around at all the work I've been doing, paintings, sculptures, pig things and barrels and splashes and all of it, and I just couldn't see any good in it. I felt dissociated from it and really couldn't understand what it was all about. And that feeling has lingered somewhat.
I recognise it as a spell of self doubt. The kind of event that encourages you to quit. And I'm pretty sure it will pass. So to combat it, I'm going back to basics and knocking out some quick portraits. Practice, Practice, Practice. I bring a picture up on the monitor, I set up my easel next to it with my brushes and some white paint, some black paint and my grey mud jar. And I pretend I'm painting a sitting subject. Speed is critical and I'm trying not to be fussy.