Rebirthing an old painting

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I have these paintings I made a long time ago. They're put away in my studio, preferably somewhere I can't see them. They are the failures, the not-so-goods, the not-wanted ones. The sad ones, the left overs, the you could-be-better ones.
Mostly I let them lie for a while afore I go and finish them. As in, paining them to an end I mean. Not actually finish them of. Even though there are times I would want to, mind you. I would smack them with paint, scratch it's surface, slap en throw them and let them know how angry I am. But instead I rage and stamp on the floor and throw the painting in a corner.
You wouldn't say so, looking at all the friendly, lovely, soft, sweet colours I use.
Well, that's because I want to feel like that! I want to feel soft, sweet, lovely, friendly, happy and all that is good and bright and calm. So I paint it. As if I am all that already.

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You see I am ill, chronicly ill. Have been for a long time. And as yet, things are a bit rough. So this painting with all his bright orange and pinks irritated me. HUGE
I don't feel like that at all and I don't want to see it either.
So I took white and smeared it all over, to scratch it away again with a palette knife ;)
Then I took purple, dark, you know. But that was so afwfull I ended up mixing it with white also. And now, half way through I have this soft, sweet, happy, nice, lovely coloured painting.
I can't help it.
I keep ending up with these colours.
No matter how dark my mood, how sad I feel, I stil paint with these colours.
It must be some sort of inner longing for all that is beautifull.
A longing for love.
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I love that smell

Walking into my bedroom this morning I noticed a very fine smell. One I love, adore, makes my heart flutter. But you know what, I couldn't bring it home...isn't that silly?
It has been al long while since I smelled that smell daily. I used to be drenched in it sort of. From a very young age. Cause I had a dad who saw my craving for art, and spiolled me with crayons and paint and paper. At my birthday of course, but also with Sinterklaas. You probably call him Santa Claus and he comes at your house at Christmas...that is after he has done his work in the Low Lands ;)
My dad was born on the second day of Christmas so he got all the presents, but we did have a big party all day long. He was the one who pursued me to keep on following my dreams. So he kept giving me all the arty stuf and kept praising my work. And in between my birthday and Sinterklaas  I bougt ever so much of my pocketmoney. The smell was one that was around me 24/7. You know....crayons smell ever so nice...and paint; gouache and aquarell...mmmhmhmhmmmm I love that smell.
Well now you would think It smells like that when I open up my little portable artstudio...but alas, that is not the case. I started painting with acryl and the smell of that ain't that nice. It sometimes is downright irritating for the lungs. So I painted less and less and less and less.....made smaller and smaller pieces of art.

I had no real place of my own till recently!!!!!!!
I am so gratefull for my daughter who gave up her big bedroom so I could make a studio.
And even though I have not finished it yet and opened up the crayontin in my bedroom, the smell promises al lot of inspiration in my studio. It realy smells so nice.
I can see myself sitting at the big table or standing behind my easel, making al sorts of artworks and smell this scent. There should be a parfume of it! Would that be a great idea!....Artists Perfume...to keep the flow going even when you are not in your studio.
Well a pair of crayons in your bag will do the same and it's even more convenient. That way you can hit the flow on paper at the same time.
O gosh,I am desperatly in need of a fabric case to put my crayons in!
And I can't wait till Sinterklaas.
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~Painting in progress~

New painting in progress.
It's an old one(again) it has been standing on the attic waiting for better days. I made it when my father still lived. He was charmed by it, it was one of my first of many colours. Tired of painting with a limited palet I decided to go for it and took al the lovely colours out of my box. After my fathers death my palet has changed into still more brigther colours. Pinks and yellows and all sorts of greens and blue's...I love them all. It's like a meadow full of flowers. It's what I want heaven to look like. And that's what I will pursue with this painting....to be continued....

~a bit more finished~

My last post I showed my painting in progress,and now I show the piece nearly done. I have been painting it over and over again,and again....it is still not ready but very near the end. It's resting for a while,.

It represents the innocence; the sweet, soft, angelic, pure heart of a maiden. She is unaware of her beauty, she just is........and it's okay to be that way. Sort of counterpart of the "sex sells the picture" fashion of today.