explored the possibilities . . . art, life, love . . . in three words
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Here's another small painting made from excess and leftover paint. The original is bigger than this, and I usually like to pick out the most interesting parts, but I had a hard time deciding how to crop this one. Either it was all bad or all good. . .
Walter the Art Guy is coming to town this weekend. He will take all that I have produced, which is slim pickin's indeed. You would think that after a couple of months of working full time, my internal clock would have adjusted and I'd be pretty productive in the evenings. Wrong. I just want to sleep. And on weekends, too. Such an unproductive use of time, sleep. . . especially when you dream about art but are too tired to make it. I'm not stressing about it, though. I know there will come a time that I will feel like I can't go another minute without painting, and then I'll be on a roll. I'm just waiting for that time and getting ready.
trying to make a little magic with ink and paint. Although I believe I am already on the right track, I should probably go back and try to find the rest of the book that tells about the "secret of a happy life." This piece is a 4 x 6" matboard, with different paints built up from other pieces I have done. I glued on a few stray pieces of text, grabbed an old wooden printer piece of the letter g, and used various bits of texturing material to stamp. I feel like it's done, so I will put it away somewhere so that I won't be tempted to mess with it more. You gotta know when to quit, right?
Winter is blasting us here in the KC area yet again. Sleet, snow, rain, thundersnow, etc. But yesterday, I saw the shoots of daffodils peeking through the layer of ice pellets, and there are other perennials greening up in the garden. Spring will show up sooner or later.
This is a scan of a piece of white linen-like paper on which I unloaded extra yellow-gold paint from my brush, overlaid with a piece of transparent paper that I used to pick up some texture from another piece I was working on. It looks pretty good with a black mat.
Last weekend I watched a video lesson on creating abstract art. It made me feel like a real piker when it comes to art. The instructor was all about maintaining control of the painting. I never feel like I'm in control of the painting. And to me, that's the best part of the painting process. I like the unexpected. I like wondering "what if" and then finding out, even if it's not great. But what a wonderful surprise it is when a "what if" turns out to be amazing. Interestingly enough, this only applies to my art. . . I would rather maintain control over the rest of my life.
Another part of the video that caught my attention was his differentiation between a "technique" and a "trick." Basically, an overused technique becomes a trick. And a trick is bad. For instance, make a few dots, but not a bunch of dots. Fling a bit of paint, but don't fling a lot of paint. Don't make everything geometric, add a few curves, but keep the proportions at about 80% to 20%.
So what do you all think about this? Do you enjoy the unanticipated or do you plan? Do you keep control over your painting or do you fling with abandon? The painting above is one I've finished recently and it exemplifies my lack of control. I had no idea the left side of the painting would come out like it did, but I love it.
P.S. to the people who looked at my house yesterday: Thank you so much for tracking in all the mud from the still snow-covered back yard. I could follow your footsteps as you took the tour of the house. I really appreciate having to clean up after you. Did you happen to see the paper booties at the door that my realtor provided for this very reason? And then to hear that you don't like my house because it needs too much work. . . well, that just made my day. How about a little bit of respect for the fact that the place you messed up is actually someone's home?
all day yesterday. . . overpowering, almost . . . to make art. Specifically to paint something, anything. I couldn't do anything about it until I got home. Add this photo to my inspiration for future paintings.