|Purcell Patterns, 30x20, original acrylic painting by Tatjana Mirkov-Popovicki|
There is one sure way to find out just how much your fans love your work.
Start doing things differently and you will instantly be told how much your old style is missed. Although this may raise doubts, it's a good thing. We make art. We develop. Our art gains fans. Every single bit of this process is awesome.
So why do I sometimes feel guilty about moving on?
I feel a mix of nostalgia and fear that the life is passing way too fast. Didn't I just take my very first art class (watercolor painting by a fabulous artist Zhu Zhu Mark), a few years ago? Wait, that was in 1995. Ouch!
So much has changed since then. I've painted watercolor florals, then portraits, then egg tempera icons, oil still life, and many other things. Then I got obsessed with the science of composition and soon after got crazy about the expressionist painting of the iconic Canadian landscape. I stylized it, composed the heck out of it, gorged on patterns and colors.
My most recent change happened this summer when I decided to completely eliminate the pre-drawing process and instead develop each painting by overlaying shapes unrestricted by lines. It's not something I am planning to keep doing forever. It's just one more destination on my art journey.
|Wolf Creek Patterns, 12x16, original acrylic painting by Tatjana Mirkov-Popovicki|
I wondered why this corny metaphor kept cropping up, but then I realized that it's not really a metaphor and it most certainly isn't corny. Life is indeed a journey - we can feel it in our legs and arms, our mind and emotions. We aren't today where we were yesterday.
When I was seven, we moved from my grandpa's house where I grew up to a new part of town where I didn't know anyone. In my teens, my country fell apart and the entire system of values disintegrated. In my twenties, I immigrated to Canada and had to rebuild my life. Should a small change in my painting process, seen from the perspective of the entire ever-changing life, be a reason for worry?
And yet, it is.
|Dusk Approaching, 14x11, original acrylic painting by Tatjana Mirkov-Popovicki|
I don't know who will want to walk next to me on this new trail, or with whom I will want to walk, but I definitively feel curious enough to keep going. Perhaps this curiosity is the kay for a creative life.
All this sounds very melancholic. It's that time of the year when the nature turns and subtly changes everything with it. No need to cheer me up, friends. As wise people say, this too will change.
Basking in gloom,