My mother, who’s a painter, tells me that watercolor painting should be fluid. The fluidity of my painting has much increased in the last few months, but there still are some rigid elements in them. For instance in “the watchtower”, the towers and the polders are quite static respect to the waviness of the fields, the ocean and the sky. The painting would be way more beautiful if everything melded and blended together as a unity. But it would be sort of a lie, for I am not yet so much in harmony and balance with myself. I have different instincts, different sides of my persona, that are in disagreement with one another and sometimes clash. That’s why I wrote in discovering colors that painting for me is a perfect representation of my mood, my state of being, right now. I’m still unable to view the world from this place of deep love in my soul. I’m still learning to listen to the voice of my intuition. I’m still discovering how to paint fluidly, without being dissatisfied with my work and wanting to correct and over-correct what I consider mistakes or unbeautiful details. Human beings are the only living species on earth who’s not in harmony with nature. We build cities of concrete and glass and asphalt, when the principal elements in nature are rocks and clay and wood. Forests are eliminated in a wink as though they were hair to shave, mountains are eaten down all day long to quarry stones or build new houses, highways and railways impose the iron hand of civilization even on wild landscapes, incredibly large amounts of non-resorbable wastes are thrown away polluting the soil and the atmosphere. Those are perfect metaphors of our state of mind. Nature symbolizes our heart, our deepest feelings and our dreams. Modern civilization represents our mind, our rationality, our instincts. The disharmony we see each day around us exists within us, at various degrees, through controlling what is fluid and trusting in our heart. When we stop being children and become adults, we often lose that innocent side of our personality, which if saved in each person would result in a much more peaceful and loving and beautiful world.
What I noticed is that the degree of external control we exert on our body and our surrounding is equal to the internal control we exert unconsciously on our feelings and intuitions and dreams. For me, drawing and painting is a perfect way to measure how much I am being in control, because they come less naturally than writing. When I write, I don’t think too much about my words, my sentences, especially when I am carried away by my story or my reasoning. When I draw or paint, I sometimes think consciously of every line, worrying if it’s going to spoil everything or not. Sometimes I trust myself, my hands, and paint fast, intuitively. Other times it becomes a rational process, resulting in rigid elements in my drawings.