Yesterday afternoon I found myself staring into the beginnings of a Studio Wormhole. These ultra rare manifestations of space and time occur when a series of events align to place me in a moment where my studio time is not conditioned upon completing an assignment for a client - I have finished an oil painting, I have completed all sketches for the next immediate commissions, and I have no pressing commitments for conventions, lectures or gallery exhibitions.
It is like the art world has been sucked out of my universe and I can walk in a place where time has no meaning - a place where I lift my head from the drawing table and can do anything I dream. These moments are the real reason I wanted to become a freelancer in the first place.
So what do I do with time which is now my own? I make more art, as if you had to ask.
Sitting beside my drafting table is a board filled with rough abstracts of paintings and drawings I wish to embrace, organized by themes from images for gallery exhibition to the inspired worlds of Middle-earth. Every day I am reminded of these little gems, waiting for the time to weave them into a client's commission or stirring forth on a day like yesterday ready to be hatched unimpeded. Some will take weeks to unfurl, but I sit on them nurturing their inspirational power month after month, some year after year.
Each one of these images I have seen in my mind's eye and know it is worthy of generating into a fully formed painting. Some I have even begun to gather references for. My only regret in collecting so many precious ideas is knowing that I may likely not have the time to hatch all of them, for as these are gestating, I am making more - my sketchbooks are tremendous incubators these past years. But thanks to my Studio Wormhole yesterday and today, I have brought life to one of these babies. At least one more shall see the light of day!
As I write this, the Wormhole has collapsed, a client emailed with requests for a sketch revision and the preliminary coat of oil on a painting will be dry tomorrow morning, waiting for me to jump back into a client's commission. Back to my commitments.
But I am happy. I have a new artistic creation to share with you, and I could not be more content about my chosen lifestyle.
I only wish the Wormholes would come more often.
Fall of Gondolin 16" x 20" Donato Giancola Watercolor Pencil and Chalk on Toned Paper