Fullness or perfection: you choose

 I've been reading this morning about the difference between striving for perfection and striving for fullness, and it struck me that these two paintings, painted over the last couple of days (my first foray back into the studio after shoulder surgery; yay!), serve as a perfect illustration.

The one on the left, Low Tide Afternoon, was painted first, and follows the sort of general pattern I'd established before the surgery; just trying to use favorite colors to create an impression of waterfront. 

But it was bland, and frustrating, and as I tried to offset the blandness I kept falling back on old solutions; things that had worked before, and it kept getting more and more representational, though that had not been my intent.  In fact, it was my reluctance to attempt representational art that kept me from painting for so many years.

At some point I declared it done, knowing there are some people who are more comfortable with representational art, and -- having already decided where I wanted it hung (which was what determined its size, orientation and colors) -- I put it up.

But I wasn't happy with it.  And the more I thought about that, the more I thought I needed to take a big step in the other direction; to just slather some paint on a canvas for the pure joy of it.  So that's what I did yesterday, and this is the result.  I call it "Sailing before the Wind."

I'm not saying this is a great painting, only that I like it much more than the other one.  And I think it's because I was striving for fullness, not perfection.  I chose colors that made me happy, adding them where it felt right, using strokes that left textures that appealed to me.  There were no shoulds in this work, just the sheer joy of color, stroke, and texture.  And, frankly, I'd much rather live with this painting than the other.

I remember, in a college art class, being assigned to draw a flower.  I ran out of time before the assignment, never made it to the conservatory, and so I drew an imaginary flower.  The instructor was not pleased -- and I think after all this time I finally understand why.  I was drawing my idea of what a flower was supposed to be, creating for a future audience (the teacher) based on past assumptions.  I wasn't responding to something that was here, now, and it suffered from that: it didn't have the depth or focus you can get when you're totally present in the moment.

Fullness?  Or perfection?  It's a choice we get to make over and over.  What will you choose?