The last time I took an art class was in middle school. So, when I tried to paint a Mondrian-inspired piece, things didn’t go so well.
Straight black lines, colored rectangles, and most of the canvas would be white. I thought it would be easy.
It wasn’t.
Maybe it was because my painter’s tape didn’t stick well or the fact that the canvas would depress each time I placed my brush on it, but straight lines are hard to draw. Straight lines are unrealistic.
I put on my big-boy-boots.
And I learned about his methods. None of it was particularly surprising; I just think he got a good amount of practice doing it. But his approach really surprised me in one sense. It was something I only discovered when I got to see one of his pieces in person: he painted white over the white canvas.
I don’t think anyone would notice that he did this 80 years ago. But today, the cracked paint reveals that he painted those white rectangles. While they may have appeared empty to the average viewer, those parallelograms were bursting with energy.
Mondrian did his work because he loved doing it. No one would notice those white rectangles, but he painted them away.
Sometimes we need to stop concerning ourselves with getting noticed and work more on enjoying the journey. Then, nothing can take away the joy that you feel in your work.
He loved what he did, so he did it. That’s all I can ask from myself.
