My mojo has left me since October/November last year with absolutely just no desire to put pen to paper or a brush to the canvas. The intention was there, many a time, but the execution didn’t happen. It was that typical staring at a blank page, at a blank canvas and realizing that even the mind was blank. So what does that say about ignoring inspiration or mood and just get on with it, regarding art as a job that needs to be done. I don’t have the answer. I can only say that if it were my job and I worked for a boss, I would’ve probably been fired.
Rutabagas, turnips and beetroot.
sketches in watercolor and pen in Arches watercolorbook HP, 18x26cm
I even went to see a Picasso exhibit, trying to find the desire to paint, but to no avail. No desire. No wanting it. I had a faint glimpse of my old desire today when I picked up a rutabaga(swede) for dinner tonight. I looked at it and thought by myself that it was a vegetable I haven’t sketched yet and I wondered why… a trigger as simple as that. Not that I am now suddenly overcome with desire to splash the paints, not at all. On the contrary. I wonder what o do tomorrow. But I am grateful for at least having a sketch done today, before January runs out. Tomorrow’s day will have to see to itself.