The Long Lost Angler Fish and the Struggle for Perfection

Ah yes, the terrifying angler fish. This piece was based on a painting I sold many years ago but kind of wish I had hung. Now don't get me wrong, there is no better feeling in the world than selling a painting to someone who loves your art but it's also bittersweet moment when it comes time to part with your creations. For weeks sometimes months you dump your heart and soul into your creation and then suddenly, poof, it's gone, off to a new home and then it's onto the next thing.

"It's totally cool", you tell yourself, "I can just make another," but as anybody who's ever created art knows that's simply not the way things work. For many years I vowed to recreate that fish, but sometimes life just gets in the way. A few weeks, turns into a few months, turns into a few years, and before you know it, you move on, and it's forgotten.

Get busy painting or get busy dying

A few years ago, I finally decided to revisit the long-lost Angler fish. The only problem was I had no reference to work from only a faded memory and an urge to recreate.

A blank canvas has never really been a problem for me. I hear other artists talk about the fear, but it's never really been a thing for me. I rarely suffer from creative block when I do my own stuff. For me, it’s the complete opposite problem—too many ideas, not enough canvasses, and never enough time.

I tend to be rather impulsive when it comes to creating new pieces so I grabbed my board and started sketching. I must have drawn and redrawn that thing 30 times, but I couldn’t quite capture the image in my mind's eye. It wasn't until I stopped trying that I finally found what I was looking for. At a certain point, you just have to let your tools guide you. So I put down my eraser, picked up my pencil, and just drew what felt good. It was like I was on autopilot, time dropped away, and when I was done, I had this crazy sketch. Did it look like the original? Who knows. Who cares? I decided to run with it.

The technical stuff

I generally work from 1/8 inch birch ply. It's light and easy to cut and I get it in big 8 foot sheets. I love it because unlike canvass I can shape it however I like. In hindsight however, I might have cut this one differently. I have a tendency to fall in love with the details. This creature has a lot of teeth and really wanted them to be to focus of this piece. What I failed to take into consideration was the complexity of the cutting process.

Live and learn.

This was one of the first pieces I created using the birch ply and I love the way it turned out but as I've progressed I've come to realize that one of the beauties of working with wood is to show the beauty of the actual wood. Because the line work goes right to the edge the idea that this is made out of wood becomes unimportant.

With each piece I create, I learn and regardless of weather or not I used the wood to it's full extent. With each piece, I get closer to where I want to be and this piece turned out to be an essential stepping stone in the learning process. Creating art is about learning and growth. Each day we strive to be a little better than the day before. The progression from the beginning of a series to the end is about finding your way along the journey. Each piece leads you down a particular path. Along that path, you make decisions that lead you to better solutions. Some of those decisions lead you exactly where you want to go. Others become a learning process. It’s a constant balancing act, but without taking risks we get caught up in the struggle for perfection. Perfection is boring. lifeless and dull, I'd much rather spend my time creating.