The weatherman promised a storm and it never came, but in the meantime I had some serious drama. It happened in the space between home and studio, art and life. Things clashed, everything flew up and whooshed around in the air, then landed vigorously in place. Slightly different.
Like this painting, that began as work with a still life model. I painted it looking at fruits and vegetables lighted on cloth. It was finished successfully, true to reality. I finally took apart the model that I’d asked Marek to leave, almost as always double the planned time, so I could be satisfied with my work.
After I took it apart, I looked at the painting and felt that it should be different. In my mind I envisioned it in its final state, and I started working on it again, this time without a model. Now I painted from my heart, and there was drama there. Everything flew up into the air, and then landed vigorously in place. Slightly different.
Like this painting, that began as work with a still life model. I painted it looking at fruits and vegetables lighted on cloth. It was finished successfully, true to reality. I finally took apart the model that I’d asked Marek to leave, almost as always double the planned time, so I could be satisfied with my work.
After I took it apart, I looked at the painting and felt that it should be different. In my mind I envisioned it in its final state, and I started working on it again, this time without a model. Now I painted from my heart, and there was drama there. Everything flew up into the air, and then landed vigorously in place. Slightly different.
Winter still life, Adi Tsimhoni, oil on canvas, 52X48 cm
