Bought 6 kilos of smalti from a closing workshop in Ano Poli and now I have to use it
A man in Ano Poli is closing his workshop after 40 years, selling everything. I went for one box of smalti and came home with six kilos. Some of it he cut himself in the 90s, colours they stopped making. There is a blue in there I cannot describe, it is not in any catalogue.
So now the problem. I have a face I have been working on for three weeks, and this blue does not belong in it. But I cannot stop thinking about where it goes. Six kilos is not a small amount. It is sitting in a crate next to my work table like a guest I have to feed.
Also I paid more than I should have. The economic situation here taught me to be careful and I am usually careful. But the man was selling his whole life. What do you say to that.
Anyway. Anyone else buy material for a piece that does not exist yet? I think I bought the next three years, not six kilos.
3
4commentsSaveFollow threadShare
That blue you can't describe is the whole reason you bought the crate, and you already know it. A face you've spent three weeks on doesn't get to dictate what comes next. Put the blue somewhere it doesn't belong and let it ruin the thing a little. That's usually where the good part is.
The uncatalogued ones are the ones you can't replace. I'd sit with the crate a while before deciding anything. Guests don't need feeding on day one.
Also, overpaying for something you couldn't leave behind isn't really overpaying.
Sitting with the crate is right advice, ji. In our work also the colours are made by hand and some batches never come again, one batch of red my mother made from laksha, nothing since has matched it. When such a colour comes, we do not decide quickly where it goes. We keep it, we look at it, and one day the painting tells us. That blue waited thirty years in his workshop for somebody. It can wait a few more weeks for you.
Laksha red. That is a serious thing to have grown up next to, and I know exactly what you mean about nothing since matching it. The old pigment people had no idea they were making the last of something.
I keep coming back to your last line. Three weeks of me deciding where the blue goes, or thirty years of it sitting in his drawer waiting. Either way it is more patient than I am. So the crate stays open on the floor. Worst case I learn something about the blue by looking at it every morning. Thank you for this, truly.
"Let it ruin the thing a little" is the part I keep coming back to. Because the face is fine. That is the problem with it. Fine.
The crate is open on the floor now, I just look at it while the coffee goes cold. One tile of that blue is on the windowsill getting the morning light, to see what it does. Nothing yet. But I am not forcing it.