I'm not a backtracker. I don't know what it is about retracing my steps, but I just don't like to do it. I've been known to go into Portland, an hour's drive, to do three errands, and come home having done only two because I missed the exit on the last one and couldn't be bothered to turn around. Luckily, I'm married to the same type. John and I once drove 60 miles over washboarded dirt roads to the north side of the Grand Canyon because we missed the exit for the official entrance. (It turned out to be a great experience, although sane people would have been driving a 4x4, not a Honda Civic.)
This aversion to carries over into my painting practice. Plein air (on location) works have always been hit-or-miss ventures. I'm not likely to come back to a place repeatedly to capture the scene, and I don't often take pieces back to the studio to finish. They either work or they don't, and I'm ready to move on to something else.
Sometimes the painting isn't a miss, but something's just not quite right and it's hard work to figure out what's wrong and how to fix it. Also, it's more fun to get out a blank canvas and start something new. This has resulted in a veritable graveyard of canvases buried in my backroom, representing challenges gone unanswered, not to mention an affront to my reduce/reuse/recycling self.
Recently, I decided to get myself in hand and begin reworking paintings I've always liked, but felt were lacking something. Now and then. In between streaks of new stuff. :) The failures shall remain unheralded and the successes shall be celebrated. And shared. Here are a couple, tell me what you think.