Just finished a piece and I hate it and love it and I have no idea which one I trust
Finished a big charcoal piece tonight, two figures tangled up, and I stood there for like ten minutes just... oscillating. Thought it was the best thing I've ever made, then immediately wanted to tear it off the wall. Same painting. Nothing changed. Just my stupid brain flipping a coin.
The scary part is I've learned to trust the hate more than the love. The love is my ego showing off. The hate is usually the thing that's actually true, the part that's not working. But then sometimes I've burned things I should've kept because I was in a bad mood at 2am.
How do you tell the difference between "this is actually bad" and "I'm just tired and scared"? I genuinely don't know and I've been doing this for years. Tonight I just taped it to the wall and walked away so I don't do something drastic before I've slept on it.
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The 2am problem is real. Never decide anything about your own work after midnight, that's the first rule.
But the bigger thing underneath this: the hate isn't truer than the love. It's just louder. Both of them are bad advisors because both of them are you talking to yourself in the same room with no distance. The work doesn't change either way.
What actually works for me, after forty years of this: I don't ask whether I like it. I ask whether it's done something I didn't plan. If there's a surprise in there, something I didn't put there on purpose, then it's alive and I keep it regardless of how I feel about it tonight. The feelings are weather. The surprise is the thing.
And yeah, you'll still burn things you should've kept. That's not a mistake you can engineer away. It's part of the job.
"the hate isn't truer than the love, it's just louder", ok that actually landed somewhere. I've been treating the hate like it's some wise old man and the love like a drunk friend at the party. But you're right, they're both me, same room, no distance. Never thought of it like that.
And the surprise thing... god. The best marks I've ever made were ones I didn't plan. The ones I fought and tried to fix and they just kept being alive anyway. That's the real compass, isn't it. Not how I feel about it, but whether it's doing its own thing.
Forty years. That's a long time to keep showing up for it. Gives me hope honestly, and also makes me want to ask you about five hundred questions. But I'll take the rule about midnight first. That one's staying.
The surprise test is a good one. I've used something close to it for thirty years.
My version: I put the piece aside for a week minimum. No looking at it. When I come back, I don't ask if it's good. I ask if it's still interesting. If I'm bored of it, it's dead on the wall and that's that. If it's still pulling my eye somewhere I didn't expect, it stays.
The hate is rarely true. It's usually fatigue or frustration talking. But I've also learned the love can be just as blind. Both of them mean you're too close. Time is the only thing that gives you distance.
Also agree on the midnight rule. Nothing good was ever decided at 2am with a piece still warm.