This post is part of my series, Courting the Muse. Subscribers to my email list receive a weekly prompt focusing on one aspect of creativity.

This week’s prompt: Reuse. Repurpose. Upcycle

Part 1: Froggie’s Lament

I had to kill the frog last night. First he took over my bathroom, then took over my post and, well, that was it. I had to kill him. Metaphorically speaking. I mean, I didn’t squash him dead or anything. I just hit delete and poof, the cyber version of him was gone. No muss, no fuss. Just. Like. That.

As far as I know, he’s still alive in the bathroom behind the toilet where he’s been living all winter–like I wrote about last night. I also wrote about his private pond, a jar lid someone (not sayin’ who) keeps refilling with fresh water. I wrote about his whore frog cousins singing love songs in the meadow. I wrote all this and more–

And then the muse slapped me upside the head and said WTF Susan–this is an ART blog. Not a post for the freakin’ Audubon Society.

So I hit delete and you’ll never know how good it was. But I’m thinking the recap may be better. Tighter. Paints the picture, makes the point and then hops away.

And fits in nicely with this week’s creative prompt.

Part 2: The Demo

Every good painting has its bad inner child, the painting that came before–even the Mona Lisa. This may be one of the better kept secrets in Artyland. Artists know all about it because we do it ourselves. Call it our guilty pleasure–but the general public is always shocked when every few years some researcher announces that there are two, three, FOUR other paintings under (Name your classic favorite painting here).

A few reasons why I paint over earlier work:

• I don’t like it
• It sucks
• I can do better
• I need that size canvas RIGHT NOW
• It’s not my favorite child
• It’s just another layer

When I did a demo at the gallery last week I chose to work over this piece–and not for the first time.

I only had three hours for the demo. Starting out with a solid base of color and texture meant I had a decent chance of turning it around in that timeframe.

I didn’t even like it well enough to get a decent photo.

BTW, this is oil pastel on heavy watercolor paper. It’s been sprayed with workable fix so I can still work the surface.

The first thing I did was turn it from vertical to horizontal to get out of the mindset that got me there in the first place. There were no obvious images or patterns to influence what I was going to do. Bummer. I toyed with the idea of abstract figures because that’s what I’ve been doing recently. I was chatting with the ladies who came to watch the demo when we were distracted by a commotion on the street. It was a march for International Women’s Day-YAY! The street was packed with ladies and signs.

We watched from the sidewalk, cheering them on. Then we went back in the gallery and this happened:

Guardians is officially a series. If you want to be notified when the collection is released as prints make sure you’re on my email list.

Part 3: The Muse Speaks

Killing the frog isn’t just about deleting a post or painting over a piece that doesn’t work—it’s about giving yourself permission to move on. Sometimes our creative impulses get stuck in the background, convincing us that what we’ve done is good enough or that it’s too late to change course.

But it’s never too late to start fresh!

That demo painting was just another frog I had to kill to get to something better. Guardians #3 wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t painted over the earlier piece and let go of the attachment to it. Even if the only attachment was this sucks!

It’s a reminder that sometimes the best work comes from letting go, taking risks, and allowing new ideas to take shape.

Your Turn:

Did this week’s prompt inspire you to revisit old work with fresh eyes? Did it help you find the courage to kill your own frogs and let new ideas emerge? Or did it just make you think about that one project you’ve been avoiding? I’d love to hear your thoughts—leave a comment below and share your story.