I'm forcing myself to write about my own artwork. I hate going through critiques without having any thoughts on why I create the images I do. I usually end up stumbling incoherently over my own words, afraid of sounding too narcissistic. Hopefully by keeping a blog I can work some things out. I might be a little more motivated to paint, too.
I think my compositional skills may have transformed into minor OCD. Lately, I've been organizing objects into little still-lifes. I noticed this about a month and a half ago while traveling through Italy. While in resturaunts I'd fidget with the silverware, plates, and glasses until they "fit" in an organized pattern. No real thought behind the actions, I just started arranging things. I still can't bring myself to crumple my napkin and throw it on the table after a meal. I have to fold it neatly and tuck it under the rim of my plate, parallel to any unused cutlery. Used silverware has to lie parallel on the plate at a 45 degree angle. Occasionally, it will get to the point where I'll secretly judge the rest of my dinner party based on how organized they've left their place setting. My mother is the worst, wading up her napkin until the original shape is unrecognizable then shrouding her plate with the wrinkled mess. So far, my little "still-lifes" haven't manifested themselves outside the resturant. And I haven't had the urge to organize anyone elses things. Compositional arrangements or OCD? Haven't figured it out yet.
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