The Midnight Studio
The Art of Insomnia
I could call my latest series of work “Insomnia.” While the paintings do not literally depict sleeplessness, they bear witness to a period in my life where sleep has become a bare necessity. At first, I was worried. I thought this erratic schedule was unhealthy. But over time, I have come to deeply enjoy it.
Nights have become a beautiful time to live and create. I am officially addicted to the midnight hours. When most of the world is asleep, you feel entirely alone on the planet, save for the cat, who takes full advantage of the quiet to demand food and attention.
Speaking of solitary journeys, I am currently reading the third and final story in Paul Auster’s The New York Trilogy. I am completely hooked. It is divinely written and deeply intriguing. While Winter Journal remains my favorite book of his, this series has inspired me to devour more of his work; I just ordered The Invention of Solitude and cannot wait for it to arrive.
I have a habit of underlining sentences written with pure sublimity. Capturing complex feelings or situations through words is a form of art that deeply attracts me. I simply love to read.
On the screen, I recently watched a wonderful movie called Hamnet, which explores the life of William Shakespeare. It is esoteric, spiritual, and a testament to the power of creativity. The entire film is scored by Max Richter, a musician I have admired for years. I highly recommend it if you love contemporary classical music; in fact, I listen to him often during my painting sessions.
Life is truly wonderful with the access we have to art, music, movies, and literature. It leaves me inspired. It allows me to feel and touch the essence of life in all its beauty and pain.
Back in the studio, I have been deeply present this month. My emotional state shifts constantly. Sometimes, the act of painting is an escape from reality or a way to outrun my own mind. Other times, I am entirely at peace with myself and my thoughts.
There are moments when I am in total control, knowing exactly what I want and how to execute it. Then there are moments where I must figure things out as I go, constantly risking failure.
I have said it before: authenticity is everything. If you are authentic, the rest becomes acceptable. Those unpredictable moments are exactly what allow the magic to happen. Stepping into that uncontrolled dimension is a wonderful space to inhabit. It feels like stepping completely out of the picture, a state some might call the absence of ego.
